The Masked Parisian
by paigevlindsay
Summary: Christine Daaé's life in the country is turned upside down when a certain masked composer visits her Father and she is forced to Paris. Meg Giry and Daroga are brought along on the journey, exploring their passions along the way. DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the lyrics used in this piece, all rights are reserved to Charles Heart and Andrew Lloyd Webber.
1. The Letter

The morning was fine in the Daaé house. Christine was curled up in a large leather armchair, overlooking the garden, reading a novel and Monsieur Daaé was reading through the daily post in his study.  
"Christine! Christine!" He called out as he burst into the living room.  
"What is it, Papa?" Christine asked, slightly worried about how tongue tied he appeared.  
"Christine! I have received the most wonderful letter, from Paris!" The old man huffed out, in a rush. Christine couldn't possibly conceive what correspondence her father could have received from Paris.

"Sit, Papa. Tell me about this letter. Who is it from?" Monsieur Daaé nodded quickly and perched himself in the chair next to Christine.  
"My dear, the letter is from Monsieur Giry." Christine looked at her father, thinking he might burst from excitement, with a puzzled look plastered onto her face.  
"Who, Papa?" Monsieur Daaé looked at his daughter in a mix of disgust and shock.  
"Monsieur Erik Giry, Christine. The man who has written the operas that everyone loves so much!" Christine now understood why her father was so excited about his letter. Erik Giry was the upcoming new opera writer in Paris and he was renowned for being difficult to communicate with.

Christine's response must have not satisfied her father, as he stomped off in a huff. Christine ran after him, wanting to ask him more about this elusive letter.  
"Papa, please wait. Is this the invisible man that everyone speaks of?" She called after her father. He stopped and turned to face her.  
"Why yes, of course, Christine. The man who wrote so many of the songs that I have taught you." Christine remembered a small selection of the songs that this man had written. She enjoyed the melodies, yet the words fell a little flat for her tastes.  
"But Papa, why would Monsieur Giry be writing to you?" She asked her father, both confused and excited. He motioned for Christine to enter the study.

Monsieur Daaé sat his daughter down in the wooden chair in front of the desk he often sat at and pointed down to his music.  
"For this, Christine. Monsieur Giry is visiting the area and has agreed, after my constant requests, to come and listen to some of my music." Christine watched as her father's eyes gleamed with hope and excitement. She turned to smile up at him and then looked backed down to the sheets of scores.  
"Papa, this is wonderful. One of the best composers in Paris, coming to view your work! I am sure he will be astounded." Christine assured her father, wanting to boost his confidence.  
"I wouldn't quite say that, child." He chuckled, looking down at his daughter. "Go now, I must prepare." He patted her hair before she sashayed back down the hall.


	2. Preparations

Erik hoped that paying a quick visit to this Daaé man would stop the never ending train of letters coming through his letter box. How the man had even learnt of his address, he did not know. All that he knew was that he needed the letters to stop. And if that meant one short visit to Domfront, then so be it.

The visit to the Daaé residence was not his only motivation to go to Domfront. Daroga had been badgering him for months to come and visit his home and it so happened that he lived very near to Domfront. _Two birds with one stone, then back to my sweet solitude_ , Erik thought to himself. He had been given the opportunity to live above ground in a lovely Parisian home once his opera debuted. Daroga had insisted that people would think nothing of the mask and that he could live happily amongst others. It was not that he couldn't live above land, he knew he could. It was rather that he did not want to. The people of Paris that he had seen at the opera and on his late night walks did nothing to recommend themselves. He would be very happy to have the visit over and be back with his music and his opera house.

Preparations were well underway for the Parisian to arrive. Christine was not swept up in it all. She thought it very unnecessary to make the house immaculate for a man who was coming to hear rather than see.  
"It is so I can have pride in my home, Christine." Her father preached to her.  
"Will you have me painted like a peacock and posed like a china doll then, Papa?" She retorted, laughing at the spectacle of her painted like an opera singer and poised in a chair, never to move again.  
"Not exactly, dear child. But I would like it if, when he does arrive, that you are more aware of your looks than usual." Her father pleaded. Christine looked down at herself and pouted, feeling slightly offended by her father's comments. She thought herself not as pretty as the women in Paris, but she did not think herself unhandsome.

In her low spirits, Christine decided to visit her dear friend, Meg.  
"My mother has seen him." Meg whispered to Christine in the living room of her auntie's house.  
"I daresay he will be a man of fashion and pride. Thinking himself better than the townspeople." Christine whispered in reply.  
"I fear you might be right, Christine. Mother knows Monsieur Erik very well and she says he can be very cold and unfeeling." Christine pondered on what Meg had said about their visitor. If he was so cold and unfeeling, Christine did not want to imagine what his negative reaction to her father's music would do to him. If he had not been so excited, Christine might have entertained the idea of talking him out of it.

Meg and Christine sat and spoke about Monsieur Giry's visit for a long while before Meg changed the topic.  
"How are you Christine, with everything? Has the aching of your heart subsided at all?" Meg asked. She was referring to the recent marriage of Raoul de Chagny. Christine and Raoul had been sweethearts and she almost believed that he loved her. However, with the interference of his parents, Raoul was married to a young and wealthy young woman. A woman more suited to the prestigious Chagny name. Christine laid a hand on her friend's arm and sighed.  
"What hurts the most Meg, is that I liked him so much due to his good nature and his piety to his parents and that, in the end is what made me lose him." Christine chuckled, hiding her pain.  
"I am sure, Christine, that he was not the great love of your life. I believe that special man is yet to come." She winked at Christine and they both laughed, both hoping that the future prospects were bright.


	3. The Reunion

The carriage that took Erik from Paris to Domfront was comfortable and more importantly: concealing. It was not that he feared society, as he used to. Now, he feared his fame and the infamy of his mask getting him noticed and harassed. He had both of the black curtains pulled and the top up on the carriage. He peered out every now and then to check the scenery. The more the houses dwindled and the scenery became more green, Erik was not sure if this situation would fit him better or worse. In Paris, he could not leave the opera house during the day, with the streets so crowded with people. That may not be the case in a smaller town. However, in Paris, his mask, and everything that came with it was accepted, to a degree, due to its being attached to his music. This might not be the case in the country, children might snigger at him, young ladies might whisper to one another about his appearance, someone might even attempt to unmask him. His mind was soothed when he realised that this would only be an issue were he to enter the town and general society. And he was in fact only visiting his friend and the Daaé house. He allowed himself to sit back and relax, determined to seek some relaxation during his trip.

Daroga was eager to see his friend again. Although he knew that his temper might flare and that he might appear cold, Erik would not be visiting if he did not care for him. He wandered through town, searching for the finest wine and cheese for his friend's visit.

Whilst walking through town, he noticed Christine Daaé and her delightful friend Meg Giry, leaving the bookstore. They giggled as they looked down at one of the books they had purchased. Daroga looked at Meg as she walked past the fountain in the town square. Her hair appeared golden in the sunlight and her smile shone as her laughter rang out in a melody. Christine noticed the man staring and soon, both Christine and Meg were looking at Daroga, in hopes of an explanation. Daroga simply bowed and began walking the other way. Both women curtsied before they chuckled amongst themselves.

Daroga took a moment to regain his composure. With his basket clung to his chest, he wondered how he could be so foolish? He had openly stared at her in public, as if it were a proper thing to do. He shook his head and chuckled softly at his stupidity. He hoped he could improve his manners before Erik arrived, although he knew manners meant very little to him.

The coach halted. Erik peered out of his window and saw Daroga waiting for him, outside of his modest home. He waited a few moments before leaving the carriage. He did not expect Daroga to be so welcoming. He patted Erik on the back and led him into the home.

Daroga's home was light and simply decorated. It was the polar opposite to Erik's home back at the opera de la populare. Daroga could tell that Erik felt uncomfortable in his well lit abode. "I know it might not be what you are used to. But I hope that you will be comfortable during your short stay here." Erik wanted to sulk on his own. But, not wanting to offend his generous guest, smiled at him, from behind his mask.  
"Thank you, Daroga. Although your home is modest, I can appreciate its beauty. As you know, I am not yet adapted to being in public." Erik explained, trying to soothe his host's anxieties.  
"I understand completely. I have not planned anything for our time together, not knowing if you would want to be out in society." Erik was grateful for his host's thoughtful nature. He took this opportunity to sit down on the sofa in the living room.  
"I have, in fact, made plans to make a visit whilst I am with you." Erik announced, feeling proud of himself as he puffed his chest ever so slightly. Daroga sat down in disbelief and looked at Erik with a quizzical expression on his face.  
"To whom, may I ask?" Erik smiled, glad that he was inquisitive.  
"To a man named Daaé" He announced with pride. Daroga let his mouth fall open, Erik was going to visit the Daaé residence? The phantom was going to visit Gustav Daaé? He couldn't dream of a world where this could be born.  
"What purpose could send you to Gustav Daaé?" Daroga asked. Erik began to wonder if perhaps Monsieur Daaé was not the man he had made himself out to be.  
"I am going to listen to his music. He has requested my opinion, as an expert as he put it." The situation became clear now to Daroga. The fact of Daaé being a composer had eluded his mind, but with this information it was perfectly reasonable for Erik to visit Monsieur Daaé.  
"I see. I hope you find his style to your tastes." Erik grunted a noise of agreement.

Christine and her Father sat down for dinner the night before the prestigious Monsieur Giry was to pay a visit to their home. He had given no time for the visit and this caused an anxiety in Gustav that Christine wished she could soothe.  
"Meg and I went into town today, Papa." She remarked. Her father pretended to be vaguely interested.  
"We saw Monsieur Daroga looking at Meg. I felt very uncomfortable indeed." The mention of Daroga perked Monsieur Daaé's ears up.  
"Did you say you saw Monsieur Daroga, my dear?" He asked enthusiastically. She nodded, her mouth filled with soup.  
"Monsieur Daroga is the friend with which Monsieur Giry is to stay with." He stated matter-of-factly.  
"Is it indeed?" Asked Christine. Upon her Father's nod, she remarked: "That must be why he had so much cheese and wine in his basket." Her father nodded silently and Christine knew that there was nothing she could say to soothe his nerves.


	4. The First Meeting

Erik looked at himself in the reflection and sighed. He adjusted his mask slightly, so that it covered the entirety of his scars on the right side of his face. He ensured that his evening wear looked immaculate and that his hair was slicked back from his face. Hoping that his attire would distract from his mask.

Daroga had agreed to accompany Erik to his meeting with Gustav Daaé. And, although he knew that Daaé revered him and thought him a genius, he felt nervous. Once they were in the carriage, Daroga looked over to Erik and asked:

"Are you alright? You seem slightly nervous." He grimaced, loathing that someone else could notice that he was anxious.

"I am just uncomfortable with meeting new people and I am trying to dull my temper." Erik commented. Daroga nodded, thinking it a good idea that his friend attempt to calm his nerves and temper, knowing how he could flare up.

Christine looked at herself in the mirror. She was pretty, she knew that. She also knew that she was probably not as beautiful as the women that Monsieur Giry was used to seeing in Paris. Meg helped her change and prepare for the occasion. Christine was eternally grateful to Meg for being here for her father's visit. It soothed her nerves to know that someone else would be present, apart from herself, her father and the revered Monsieur Giry.

"Have you ever met him?" Christine asked Meg, as she tied Christine's hair half up in curls, with a long strands falling down her back.

"No. Mother is as close as anybody to him. That is why he took our name. But no, I haven't met him." Christine pondered for a moment. She was not sure why she had to be beautiful for Monsieur Giry. Would her good nature not recommend her enough?

Meg helped Christine into her pastel blue dress, tying her corset at the back and lacing her brown boots, that were easily concealed by the dress. She stood before Meg and asked for her opinion.

"You could not be more of a picture, Christine." They smiled at one another and made their way down to breakfast.

Erik and Daroga sat in the carriage, once it had stopped. Erik remained still for a moment, feeling his nerves come over him. Daroga offered him a comforting glance and a light friendly nudge as they got out of the carriage.

The house was quaint, Erik noticed. He thought it was everything that a country cottage should be. With a thatched roof and thickly framed windows. The door was large and the knocker was heavy. Daroga offered to do the honours. However, Erik insisted and thudded the knocker against the door three times.

The man who opened the door was short with disarrayed hair, that he had obviously made an attempt to tame. He gasped briefly, upon seeing Monsieur Giry's appearance. Erik stood in the doorway, towering over this man, whom he had guessed was Gustav Daaé.

"P-please come in." The short man offered, as he extended his arm. Monsieur Giry bound past him, without a look. Whereas, Daroga bowed slightly to Daaé before entering the home.

Meg and Christine stood when the men entered. One she knew to be Mr Daroga and the other, the one in the mask, she was sure was Monsieur Giry. Her father ran to stand between them.

"Monsieur Giry, may I present my daughter, Christine Daaé and her companion, Meg Giry." Both girls curtsied and Erik made an effort to bow. Christine noticed that he did not spend much time glancing at her. Rather he spent his time on Meg, which was to be expected, due to her beauty.

"I send regards from your mother, Mademoiselle." Was all Erik said to Meg.

"Mademoiselle Daaé, it is a pleasure." Although he said it was a pleasure, she was very sure that he did not mean what he said. No introduction was needed for Daroga, as their acquaintance was already established.

Gustav Daaé stood awkwardly as the two men and women stood, staring at one another. Monsieur Giry's presence in the room was tangible and almost uncomfortable.

"Shall we?" Gustav asked Monsieur Giry, gesturing towards his music room. Monsieur Giry nodded and followed the short, stout man.

Gustav could not remember the last time that he had been so nervous. He stood, staring at this tower of a man, as he looked around his music room, touching random objects and observing them.

Soon, Monsieur Giry sat in the large plush leather chair in the corner of the room and crossed his legs, staring at the man standing in the middle of the room.

"What would you like to hear Monsieur?" Gustav asked, wanting to know which instrument he wished to hear first. Erik almost laughed at this question. Because he did not really want to hear anything apart from the phrase: "I will not send any more letters." Leave Monsieur Daaé's lips. However, he simply replied:

"Something light, Monsieur."

Gustav began with a piece on the violin. He knew that this was an instrument he had truly mastered. Erik closed his eyes, listening to the flitting melody played by the man's surprisingly fast fingers. He was shocked to discover that he did actually enjoy Monsieur Daaé's music. It was not the most complex, but it had a charm that he had not heard before.

After the violin solo was over, Gustav looked to Monsieur Giry for his opinion.

"I must say, Monsieur." Erik began, "That I do enjoy your music and wish to hear more." Gustav thought he might explode with joy at Erik's answer.

"Thank you, Monsieur Giry." He thanked Erik, before heading over to his cello.

Christine, Meg and Daroga had been left to their own devices, whilst Erik and Gustav Daaé went off to the music room. The first few moments were occupied with silence. After Christine had asked for Monsieur Daroga to sit they each stared at the floor, attempting to concentrate on something other than one another

They all looked up when they heard Christine's father begin playing the violin. Christine smiled to herself, the violin being her personal favourite.

"Your Papa is very talented, mademoiselle Daae. I had not realised." Daroga commented to Christine.

"Thank you, Monsieur. He has been practicing day and night since he heard from Monsieur Giry." She smiled with her response, glad for the compliment to her father.

They sat in silence for a long moment, listening to Gustav play his violin.

"How do you know Monsieur Giry, Monsieur Daroga?" Meg asked innocently. Daroga smiled at her sweet, innocent face.

"I was friends with Monsieur Giry before he became known to the public. I would bring him food and other necessities when he could not do so himself." Both of the young ladies smiled after the moment of realisation.

"That is very kind of you, Monsieur." Christine commented. To which he nodded.

Christine soon found employment with the book that she had been reading the night before. The fairy tales which she had set on reading soon passed the time and soon enough, her father and Monsieur Giry were leaving his music room.

"Christine, go and tell Marie that we shall be eating soon." Her father commanded. She soon found Marie and she informed Christine that lunch would be prepared soon.

Erik sat opposite the Daaé daughter whilst they ate lunch. He had noticed that her eyes focused anywhere but the mask when she looked at him. He laughed in his mind _such a sweet little thing, not wanting to seem rude_ , he thought to himself. She was astoundingly beautiful, he decided, as he watched a single curl fall out of its pins and into her face. She lacked all of the trimmings that made Parisian women gaudy and unattractive. Mademoiselle Daaé had an innocent, wide eyed beauty that he both envied and admired massively.

He had noticed, whilst eating, that Daroga was rather enchanted with the Giry girl. Indeed she was kind to the eyes and pleasant in nature. However, Erik could not fathom how someone in the company of both Mademoiselle Daaé and Giry could find the latter more enchanting.

The lunch was eaten mostly in silence, apart from the odd compliment from Daroga and the thanks of Gustav Daaé. Once everyone had finished, Gustav turned to Erik and asked:

"If it is not too much of a bother, Monsieur, I would like to show you some pieces from an opera that I have been working on." Erik could feel his eyes widen at the mention of an opera. He thought Daaé's music was pleasant. However, he could not imagine how it would translate into opera.

"Of course, Monsieur. I am nothing, if not a lover of opera." He watched as Christine smiled to herself. He wondered if he had seen anything as delicate or pure and came to the conclusion that no, he had not.

When the moment came for Gustav to show Erik his opera, one glaring question remained: who would sing?

"If you do not mind, Monsieur, my daughter Christine will accompany me." Erik looked over at the girl, who was now protesting with her father, begging him not to make her sing.

"If she is the only singer available, then she will suffice." Erik commented, wishing he had his usual Carlota to truly enjoy the music.

Christine did not want to sing, not wanting to do disjustice to her father's music. She was sure that this was a plan that had been devised by her father to show her off. However, she feared greatly that, although her father thought she had the voice of an angel, she would measure up rather short compared to the voices Monsieur Giry was used to hearing.

Erik watched as the girl nervously fidgeted with her dress. He smiled behind his mask, glad that his opinion was important enough to make her nervous.

Christine was grateful that her father had at least chosen her a song that she knew without the sheet music. She stood and played with her dress, trying not to look Monsieur Giry in the face.

Erik waited as Monsieur Daaé played the introduction of the aria that his daughter was about to sing. He admitted that his hopes were not high of the country girl, taught by her father. However, he attempted to have an open mind as he waited.

Christine could feel her palms sweat as her father played the introduction that she had heard so many times before. She took a deep breath, before beginning.

"Think of me,

Think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye." She began. She found that once she had started to sing, her nerves began to melt away and she simply fell into the experience.

Erik sat, in wonder of this girl. He had never heard such a voice before. He cursed himself for wanting Carlotta. Christine Daaé's voice was devoid of the italian twang that tainted Carlotta's voice. He sat forward in his seat, revelling in hearing such a voice.

Daroga and Meg sat in the living room whilst Christine sung.

"Remember me, once in awhile.

Please promise me you'll try." They heard Christine sing from the other room. Meg's mouth fell open when she heard her friend, singing like a lark. Daroga placed a hand over his mouth a let out a single chuckle of disbelief.

"Mademoiselle Giry, did you know Mademoiselle Daaé could sing like this?" He asked in disbelief. Meg shook her head.

"I daresay I did not, Monsieur. I have never heard her sing before." Meg struggled to say. Daroga laughed, wondering what his friend's reaction must be, and sat in silence, listening to the angelic voice of Christine Daaé.

Just as Erik thought that her range could not have more potential, she would hit a note

higher than the last. Her voice was not perfect, that he could admit. But whilst she hit the last note of aria, her voice rang clear as a bell and he saw more possibilities than he had ever before for his music. He could feel a strange new emotion bubbling inside of him, one that he couldn't understand

Not knowing how to respond to this newly awakened emotion, Erik let his face harden and his manners become less than polite. He stood, quickly, wanting to leave, and more importantly think over what had just happened.

"I must leave, Monsieur Daaé. I shall return to hear the rest of your music at another time." He bowed and strode out of the room, before Christine or Gustav could say anything.

Daroga watched as his friend burst from the music room. He was confused to find him angry, even bordering volatile. Erik paced past him and hopped up into the carriage. Before leaving, Daroga stuck his head into the music room, where he found Christine Daaé and her father, stood in a state of shock and embarrassment.

"Let me assure you, Mademoiselle, that your singing is not what has turned my friend's mood sour. He is just not used to being in company. I daresay you sing very well, Mademoiselle Christine and I would very much like to hear more of your voice, as I am sure my friend would too, despite what you might think. We shall return, I promise you this. Good day." He bowed to Monsieur and Mademoiselle Daaé, before he turned to leave. He stopped, when he saw Meg's face in a state of shock. He knelt before her and took one of her hands in his.

"Please, Mademoiselle Giry, do not be frightened of my friend, he can just let his temper get the better of him sometimes. I shall bring him back at a later date and I daresay I would very much like to see you here as well." In a bold gesture, he pressed his lips to Meg's hand and bowed.

"Good day, Mademoiselle Giry." He blurted out, before quickly slipping through the front door.

Christine stood, silent for a long while. He had simply walked out, after hearing her sing. Something about her voice had made him so angry that he had to leave the house, in a manner most ungentlemanlike. She felt her bottom lip quiver, fearing that she might cry, knowing that she had ruined her father's chances at impressing the elusive Monsieur Giry. She felt a tear pour over her cheek when she felt her father's hand on her back.

"Do not fret, child. Monsieur Daroga promised that his friend very much liked your voice." Christine attempted to smile and agree with her father. But she knew that Monsieur Daroga was only trying to polite. She was sure that Monsieur Giry's leaving was her fault.

Erik seethed as he waited for his friend. _What could be taking him so long?!_ He thought to himself. He felt a twinge of shame when his friend slid into the carriage.

Once they were moving, Daroga looked to his friend with an expression of disbelief on his face.

"Erik, what happened?!" Erik sat, brooding, not wanting to reply.

"Erik, tell me." Daroga demanded. Erik sighed, cursing the effect that Daroga had on him.

"She is different. I was overwhelmed." He replied in a small voice.

"But that doesn't mean you storm out of the room! Leaving the poor girl to think you hated her voice!" Daroga shouted. Erik looked up from the floor, to his friend. He hadn't thought of the possibility that she might interpret his hasty departure as a dislike of her performance. But now that he thought about it, how could she not? He had acted in a way that was unacceptable. He had acted without chivalry and grace. He felt pity for the Daaé girl that he had never felt for another. However, all he could think to do now, was write for that voice, to write her the music that she deserved.

Meg had reassured Christine of the beauty of her voice, before she left. However, when she was alone, Christine couldn't help remembering the look on Monsieur Giry's face as he stood to leave. It was a hard expression, one of no emotion. She had not made him feel anything, she had left his soul cold and unimpressed. The miniscule sliver of hope that her voice was good was extinguished as she knelt by her bed and wept into the pillow.

Erik did not wait to begin writing. Daroga had prepared for his friend's visit by hiring an array of instruments for his use. He strode into the music room and slammed the door behind him. He was not sure where to start. She had the voice of an angel and he wanted to do it as much justice as was possible. He sat thinking for a long while, not knowing what topic to write about for this angelic voice, and that was when he felt a thought enter his mind. He smiled to himself, drawing the blinds, so no one could see him. He gently laid his mask to one side, then began to write.


	5. The First Rose

Christine found solace in her sorrow by praying to her mother.

"Dear Mamen. You said when you were in heaven that you would send me the angel of music and that he would teach me of his ways. I thought, perhaps that this was true when my voice began to improve. However, Monsieur Giry's reaction has proven to me that I have not improved at all and I have been visited by no such angel." She sighed and closed her eyes, placing her head in her hands.

"I have never been selfish, Mamen and I have never asked you for anything. But please, now, just this once, for father's sake, send me the angel of music and bestow upon me the talents to impress this masked genius." She sighed after her prayer, unsure as to whether it was going to be answered.

Erik watched from the window, unable to be seen by the Daaé girl, hearing her prayer.

"For father's sake, send me the angel of music and bestow upon me the talents to impress this masked genius." He paused in shock when he heard the words "masked genius" leave her soft lips. He had wondered all day, how to apologise for his rude behaviour. He had written twenty notes, that had all been discarded seconds after they were written. He found that the best way to apologise contained no verbal component, simply a single rose and a black ribbon.

Christine opened her eyes, after finishing her prayer and gasped when she saw a single red rose, lying on her pillow. She approached the flower, with caution, not knowing where it had come from. Around the rose was tied a single black ribbon. She held the rose to her chest and looked up to the heavens.

"Thank you, Mamen." She thanked her mother, sure that this was a sign that her prayers were going to be answered.


	6. Angel Of Music

Erik awoke to the sun shining through his window. He moaned, uncomfortable with the light, unused to waking with the sun. He changed quickly before going downstairs to eat with his friend. Erik was quite taken aback when he saw the Giry girl sat with Daroga at the breakfast table. He was unsure as to how this had come about. However, he greeted the girl before sitting down to breakfast.

Meg had gone to Monsieur Daroga's house to check on Monsieur Giry. She was certain that he had felt ill the previous day, causing him to depart as quickly as he had, and wanted to ensure that he felt better. Also, she wished to invite them both back to the Daaé house, to hear the rest of Monsieur Daaé's music and to make amends with Christine.

She had arrived early in the morning and had found Monsieur Daroga sat at his breakfast table, squeezing an orange into a glass. He had not noticed when she entered, so she cleared her throat lightly. He looked up and, in shock, dropped the orange into the glass of squeezed orange juice. Meg placed her hand over her mouth, covering a laugh. Monsieur Daroga smiled at the gesture before offering her to stay for breakfast.

"I must say, Monsieur Daroga, that my motive for coming this morning was to check if your companion was quite in good health. I feared he might have fallen ill yesterday, causing him to leave so promptly." Daroga smiled at the girl. She could not think badly of anyone and thought him to be ill, rather than bad tempered.

"I can assure you, Mademoiselle Giry, that my friend is in perfect health." He said, in an attentive voice.

"I am glad, Monsieur. Then, please let me convince you to come to Daaé house today. Both Christine and her father were left in quite a state and I daresay that the sooner you return, the sooner their nerves can be soothed." He beamed at the girl, being so kind on behalf of her friend.

"There is no objection on my part, Mademoiselle. However, we must wait for the verdict of Monsieur Giry." He stated, smiling at her kind and pretty face.

Erik sat in front of the two, chattering away, about things and people who he cared very little about.

"Ah, Erik. What would you say to a trip to the Daaé house today? You did say to Monsieur Daaé that you would hear the rest of his music." Erik pondered his friend's request for a moment. He did want to see the Daaé girl again and he was sure that paying her a visit was the least that he could do after his rude behaviour the day before.

"If it would please you, Daroga then I would be happy to pay a visit to the Daaé house today." He replied, attempting to hide his excitement at seeing Christine Daaé again.

Christine was sat, once again, in her leather armchair, looking over the front garden. Her legs were poised over the arm of the chair, with her bare feet dangling over the edge, in a rather inelegant style, her nose pressed into a book. When she heard a knock at the door, she was sure it was only the meat delivery or one of her father's friends, seen as Meg had not said she was going to visit.

"Christine?" She heard Meg call and she smiled at her friend's unplanned visit.

"I am in the living room, Meg!" She called out to her.

"Good day, Mademoiselle Daaé." Christine jumped at the unmistakeable sound of Monsieur Giry's voice. She quickly rose from the armchair, becoming red in the face, embarrassed at having him catch her sat in such an unladylike position.

"I hope you are in good health today, Monsieur." She said, curtsying to him and flitting her eyes to and away from his mask.

Erik felt very uncomfortable on the journey over. The Giry girl had insisted on having the top down on the carriage and although he wanted to protest, he knew that after his display yesterday, he could not do anything to make him appear cold and selfish. They saw not five people on the drive over and those they did see were neither acquaintances of Daroga nor Meg Giry. Erik felt very relieved when they reached the Daaé house. He once again noticed how quaint it was and felt a smile come to his face when he saw the Daaé girl lounged about an arm chair, with her nose in a book.

Erik had followed Meg Giry into the house and had gone straight to the living room where he knew she was. He stood, watching her read for a moment, admiring the sea of brunette curls fall across her white dress. When she called out to her friend:

"I am in the living room, Meg!" He could not help but make himself known. He took one last look at her dangling bare feet and her relaxed stance before making himself known. She scattered about, embarrassed that someone had found her in such a state. He bowed when she curtsied and waited for her to say something.

Christine exhaled when Meg and Daroga entered the room. She felt slightly uncomfortable with being in the room alone with Monsieur Giry.

"Meg, Monsieur Giry, Monsieur Daroga, please sit." Christine offered the seats in the room to her guests. They all sat, Meg and Daroga on the sofa and Monsieur Giry on the armchair.

"Let me go and get my papa quickly, excuse me." Christine left the room, heading up to her father's bedroom. He had said that he was going to take a short nap before lunch.

She knocked on the door.

"Papa? We have visitors. Monsieur Giry and Daroga have returned!" She called through the door to him. Before he could answer, Gustav was up and dressed, bounding down the stairs, past Christine. She took this opportunity to go to her bedroom quickly and slip on some shoes. She looked at her appearance briefly and sighed, she looked like a wild woman, with curls pinned haphazardly into a sort of half up style.

When she returned downstairs, she watched as Monsieur Giry and her father walked into the music room once more.

Erik had watched as the Daae man ran down the stairs. He was almost complemented by this lack of grace, glad that he was so eager to see him again.

"Monsieur Giry, what a delight it is to see you so soon again." He said, breathlessly. "Of course, Monsieur Daroga, it is a pleasure to see you and Meg dear." They both nodded to Gustav before he sat near Monsieur Giry.

"I have been wondering, Monsieur Daae, if I could burden your daughter to sing for me some of my new material? As I am so far away from my usual soprano." Gustav's face lit up, glad that Monsieur Giry had enjoyed his daughter's voice.

"Of course, Monsieur Giry. I am sure that Christine will be delighted to sing for you." Erik smiled, glad that he had secured her voice at the blessing of her father. He took one last look at Christine, as she ran down the stairs, flushed and wide eyed, before entering the music room.

Once the music had started, Meg had noticed that Christine's eyes kept flitting to her book and that Monsieur Daroga appeared to be very bored at the lack of entertainment.

"What do you think of going on a walk through the gardens, Monsieur Daroga?" Meg asked, wanting to feel the sun on her face.

"Of course, Mademoiselle Giry, I would be delighted." He beamed. His smile, however, soon turned a little sour when Meg asked her friend if she would join them.

"Oh no, Meg. I shall stay here and continue with my book. Enjoy the sun for me, though." She said to her friend, feeling that she might want to be alone with Monsieur Daroga.

Daroga offered his arm to Meg Giry and smiled as she took it. He noticed how light of foot she was when she pulled him along, out into the garden. The Daaé gardens were very beautiful, he noticed, with many trees and flowers. He and Meg walked for a long time in silence. She enjoyed the sun on her face and he very much enjoyed seeing her bathed in sunlight.

Soon, they stopped in the part of the clearing where most of the flowers grew and the sun shone the brightest. Daroga set down his coat for Mademoiselle Giry to sit on and she thanked him in abundance for his kindness. As they sat down, Daroga noticed Meg kick off her shoes and begin to run her fingers amongst the flowers. He laid his hat to one side and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, attempting to be more comfortable.

"I daresay this is my favourite time of year, Monsieur Daroga. When the sun is bright and flowers bloom. Would you not agree?" She asked, with her wide eyes looking up at him with such a wonder as he had never seen before.

"I daresay I do enjoy spring and summer time. However, I do have a fondness for autumn, when the leaves fall and one may begin to sit by his fire." Meg bit on her bottom lip for a moment, in thought.

"I must say, you are right, Monsieur. One must find the goodness in all seasons for then one can enjoy all year. I am very glad that you have joined me in becoming comfortable. I truly believe that no acquaintanceship is truly fond until the members may be relaxed and unrefined with one another." Daroga smiled at the eloquent young sprite. His heart swelled when she had said that their acquaintance was truly fond. He knew that he felt something much stronger than fondness towards her. But fondness, he could work with that.

Erik sat in the music room and listened as Gustav moved from instrument to instrument, demonstrating how the piece would sound played by an orchestra. Erik could not deny, he was impressed. The man had put an awful lot of work into his music and he was glad to say that he would be able to use some of it.

Whilst he was listening to Gustav play the piano, Erik noticed the Giry girl and Daroga sat out in the sun. She had taken off her shoes and he had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and they looked perfectly at ease with one another. Erik sighed, longing for the ability to be so at ease with another. He had delighted in seeing Christine that morning, barefoot and draped comfortably across the armchair. He imagined, that with Meg Giry and Daroga out in the gardens, she had resumed her position in the leather armchair and the thought brought a smile to his lips.

Christine poked her head above the large leather armchair when she heard her father call her.

"Yes papa?" She answered.

"Go and see if Marie will set the luncheon up outside today. Monsieur Daroga and Meg look so comfortable, I feel we should join them." Christine complied and, although she huffed a little, Marie agreed to move some chairs out onto the lawn and serve the lunch in the garden. Her mood was brightened when Christine offered to help.

"You really shouldn't, Mademoiselle, but I am afraid I have a bad back, so the help would be much appreciated." Christine smiled up at Marie before taking a large garden chair in her hands.

Erik watched as Mademoiselle Daaé struggled to carry the large chair out into the garden. He quickly caught up with her and insisted on taking the chair.

"Such labour should not fall into such delicate hands." He stated, easily taking the chair, with his strong frame.

Once the three chairs for the men were set out, Christine and Meg insisted that they would sit on a blanket and Christine went to fetch one. Once they were all sat out, Monsieur Daaé removed his shoes and got quite comfortable and by this time, Daroga had removed his shoes and was the sight of ease. However, although he delighted in seeing Meg Giry, and more so Christine Daaé relax in the sun, Erik could not bring himself to even remove his black gloves. He was surprised by how pleasant the sun felt on his face and found endless pleasure in watching Mademoiselle Daaé lay out on the blanket, soaking up the sun and picking flowers with Meg Giry.

As she sat and ate her tarte, Christine could not help but notice how out of place Monsieur Giry looked amongst the garden in summer. His attire was completely burgundy and black, apart from the white of his collar and the porcelain of the mask that covered the right side of his face. His gloves were black and his hair was jet black slicked back from his face. She couldn't help but wonder if he would look more at home by a fireplace, in the dead of winter and decided that yes, yes he would. She herself was not a creature of summertime, she much preferred the autumn and winter when the leaves began to fall and the snow followed it. However, she had a special place in her heart for spring, when the flowers began to bloom, and sitting around the patches of flowers now made her immensely happy.

Once the lunch was over, Monsieur Daaé was eager to continue his display to Monsieur Giry, and he was as willing, if not more so.

"I will need you now, Christine." He said as he motioned for his daughter to enter the house. Christine's eyes widened as Monsieur Giry offered his hand to her, to help her up. However, she accepted it and held it for a while, before letting go and letting her hand fall to her side.

He was not sure why, but Erik wanted to bestow every kind of chivalry onto this girl after his shocking display the day before. He felt himself hold his breath as her hand touched his. If he had had his way, he never would have dropped her hand and would have held it in his until he reached the music room. He quickly swatted this thought away from his mind, feeling that uncomfortable new emotion which had made him so irritable the day before return.

Christine padded through the house barefoot, enjoying the feeling of the cold wood on the soles of her feet. She noticed that Monsieur Giry had to slow his walk to match with her pace. She was glad that he was in better spirits today and that he was allowing her more time with him. Because, although she thought he possessed all of the trimmings of a parisian, she found him massively intriguing and wished to know more.

Erik sat in the large plush leather chair once again and relaxed back into its comfort while he watched Christine Daaé prepare to sing for him once again. He noticed when she opened the window how the sun shone across her face and over her curls and ensured to keep that image in his mind for later.

Christine was once again nervous to sing in front of Monsieur Giry. He sat, with his legs crossed and his hands clasped in his lap, as he gazed at her. She smiled in his direction and watched as a grin crawled to the corners of his mouth. She had opened the window to allow some fresh air to enter the room, feeling hot and stuffy. She glanced down at the sheet of music that her father was setting up on the piano and prepared herself. When he looked to her, she gave a little nod to begin the music.

As she began to sing, Erik found himself, once again, astounded from the depth of emotion that her voice conjured in him. She truly had the clearest voice he had ever heard and closed his eyes in revelry.

"Wishing you were somehow here again,

Wishing you were somehow near

Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed

Somehow you would be here." He heard her sing and could not help but see her knelt, once again by her bed, praying to her mother. He wondered if this song was written by her father about her mother, and if so then he could most definitely use it in some opera he would write in the future.

The song ended too soon and Erik opened his eyes to watch Christine close her eyes as she sang the last line:

"Help me say goodbye." Her voice reached angelic heights and he felt a lightness in him that he had never felt from Carlotta's voice. His reaction was obviously enough praise for Monsieur Daaé as he left, after bowing to Monsieur Giry and nodding at his daughter. This was his time, this was the moment that Erik could have this angel sing his music for him. She began to head for the door and he intersected her, placing his gloved hand on her stomach.

Christine stopped in utter shock when Monsieur Giry slid his hand across her midsection. The feeling of his glove against the fabric was a strange sensation. However, she could think nothing past that, too intoxicated by how close he was and too outraged by his impertinence.

"Sing for me, Mademoiselle." He demanded and she could not help but oblige.

"As you wish, Monsieur." She replied, her face much too close to his for clear thought.

Erik felt comfortable sat by the piano. He pulled a piece of music from his jacket and placed it on the stand.

"I am afraid you must sit beside me, Mademoiselle." He looked up to her, slightly embarrassed. However, without skipping a beat, Christine sat beside Erik, so close that their shoulders touched.

Christine felt the nerves weigh her body down as Monsieur Giry began playing the introduction to this mystery song. She took a deep breath and prepared herself,

"Father once spoke of an angel

I used to dream he'd appear

Now as I sing, I can sense him

And I know he's here

Here in this room

He calls me softly

Somewhere inside hiding

Somehow I know

He's always with me

He - the unseen genius" She sung softly, not wanting to strain her vocal chords before she had even begun.

Erik attempted to concentrate on the piano, but he could not. She was the missing link to the hole in his music. He had not known until now that his music was lacking, unfeeling. Her voice brought to life all of the shortcomings of both his previous writing and his previous singers. He could not bare to listen to more than one opera from Carlotta. However, he could sit and listen to Christine for an eternity and not tire.

Meg and Daroga sat with Gustav out in the garden, they were speaking about Meg's upcoming trip to paris to see her mother until they were stunned into silence.

"Angel of music!

Guide and guardian!

Grant me to your glory!" They heard Christine sing from inside the music room. Gustav had never heard his daughter sound so powerful and clear and he felt a tear come to his eye as he continued to listen.

Christine became confused as they reached the end of the song. It seemed to peter out into nothing and she couldn't understand how such a powerful and beautiful song could end in such a way. After a few moments of silence, she looked over to Erik, forgetting how close he was.

"Monsieur, is this piece finished?" She asked in a breathless voice.

"Most certainly not." He replied, appearing a little tired himself.

"I can do better." She said in a small voice, fearing that she had not performed to an acceptable standard. She was surprised to hear him laugh.

"I would be very surprised, Mademoiselle Daaé, if anyone could do better." He said matter of factly. Christine smiled down at her hands, deeply complimented.

Erik felt slightly embarrassed at expressing so obviously his appreciation of her performance. He looked up from the piano to Mademoiselle Daaé's young beautiful face when her hand rested on his. When he looked up to her, she smiled up at him.

"Is that all, Monsieur?" He nodded and watched as she flitted off through the door, sending him one more kind look.

Gustav beamed when he saw his Christine walk out into the garden. She sat beside Meg and the conversation ceased for a few moments.

"Christine, I have never heard you sing like that." Gustav said in wonder to her.

"This music is different to the other Giry songs you have had me sing father." He nodded, deeply proud of his daughter.

Erik watched as she smiled in the sun with her father. He felt a strange yearning to join her, to be with her and see the sun fall upon her curls. He laughed at that thought, _you are a creature of darkness, fool._ He thought to himself. With this thought, he wondered how much more beautiful Christine would look in his heavenly darkness and he smiled to himself, thinking of her face in the candlelight.

Monsieur Giry and Daroga soon left, with the promise of returning a day or two later, to spend some time with Christine and to practice further. Her father beamed with joy, sure that she was his ticket to Paris, for his music to be heard by the masses.


	7. The Newly Married Couple

Raoul sat in the living room with his now heavily pregnant wife. Hardly anything had been said that day and he found himself rather bored.

"Is there not anything you would like to do, my love?" He had been married to Beatrice for six months now and he knew her well enough to deduce that no, there was nothing that she would like to do.

"No, my love. I am tired and am happy to simply be sat in your presence." He sighed, thinking of past times, when his hours were spent with a far more stimulating woman. He wondered what Christine was doing now. He thought she was probably sat in her living room, sprawled across her armchair, with her nose in a book. He knew that even if she was heavily pregnant, she would have had him read to her or vice versa or they would have taken a short walk into the garden. Even if she had sent him into town for a few things, it would have kept him busy and he would have been happy. However, in this state, with this wife he found himself longing for those times when Christine was in his life.


	8. Passions Flaring

It had been a week since Monsieur Giry and Daroga had visited. Gustav Daaé was beginning to worry and due to that worry, Christine had offered to take some gifts around and make a visit to the Daroga house.

"You are such a good child." Gustav commented, kissing her forehead as she held the basket of small cakes for the men.

Daroga was rather angry with his guest. He had promised the Daaé girl that he would visit within two to three days. It had now been seven and still he would refuse to go and see her. He wondered what this would be doing to the poor girl. She must have been sure that he liked her after their last meeting. Now however, that opinion might have began to crumble.

He smiled as he opened the door to a wide eyed Christine, stood in an eggshell blue dress and holding a woven basket of treats.

"Mademoiselle Daaé, this is such a pleasure." She curtsied and followed him into the living room.

"How is Mademoiselle Giry's trip to Paris going?" Daroga asked, wondering about his little angel.

"She is having a fine time, Monsieur. I received a letter from her not two days ago saying that she is having the time of her life, training with the ballet at the opera house." It did not surprise Daroga that Meg Giry was a ballerina her frame and lightness of foot almost begged for it.

"I must admit to you, Monsieur, that I am here to check on the health of Monsieur Giry. I have become worried due to the fact that he has not visited my father and I for a week now, when he said he would only stay away a day or two." He smiled down at the girl, glad that she was bold enough to come herself and seek him out.

"He is up in the music room, Mademoiselle, you will hear him." She nodded

Christine made her way up the stairs and heard nothing, she listened carefully and waited to hear Monsieur Giry play. Suddenly, just as she was passing one of the doors, Christine heard the piano begin to sound. Soon enough a voice, Christine had guessed was Monsieur Giry's began to sing.

"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.

Silently the senses abandon their defenses." Christine leant against the wall, not wanting to disturb Monsieur Giry and wanting to listen to his hauntingly beautiful voice.

Daroga heard, as he had all night, Erik practice.

"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams,

Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before,

Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar,

And you'll live as you've never lived before." He was still astounded by his friend's voice. However, he wondered how Christine had reacted. It was obvious that she had not entered the room, else the singing would have stopped, but she had not returned downstairs, which suggested that she was listening.

Christine let her eyes fall closed as she heard Monsieur Giry sing:

"Let your soul take you where you long to be." The note seemed to last forever, and she never wanted it to end.

"Only then, can you belong to me." Christine couldn't help herself when she heard him sing. Beginning to wonder who he was singing for, she took a step towards the door, wanting to hear better. However, the music stopped and she paused, fearing that he had heard her loitering. A few seconds passed before she heard him stand from his piano stool.

Erik was beyond angry. He had caught Daroga loitering before and it had irritated him then. He had said he was going out, so he felt comfortable to sing. He paced, his rage bubbling under his skin. Why had Daroga not moved yet?! He wondered. He could sense him stood outside.

"You're not supposed to be here!" He called out to him.

"Definitely not up here, listening to my music without my permission!" He shouted into the silence.

"You lying scoundrel! Listening to my most private thoughts! Curse you!" He got himself into quite a rage, pacing around the music room. Why was he not replying? He paced towards the door.

"Answer me, you fool!" He screamed, before opening the door. His heart fell into his stomach when he saw Mademoiselle Daaé, holding a basket of cakes, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Christine?" He whispered. He watched as she dropped the basket and began running down the stairs.

"Mademoiselle Daaé, wait!" He called to her, but alas, she would not be stopped. He picked up the fallen cakes and placed them into the basket, before retreating back into the music room, slamming the door behind him.

Christine shook as she heard Monsieur Giry scream at her.

"You're not supposed to be here!" She knew that he had said that he was going to visit her, but she had not realised that meant that she could not visit him.

"Curse you!" He called out to her and that was when she felt the tears spill onto her cheeks. When he finally opened the door, his face fell into a state of shock.

"Christine?" She heard him whisper and she stood, staring at his face in pure shock. His expression suggested that he had expected someone else to have been stood there, but she could not process this thought now. All she could do was run down the stairs and leave the house.

"Mademoiselle Daaé, wait!" She heard Monsieur Giry call to her. This was when she was sure that he had been mistaken and had not been knowingly shouting at her. She tapped on the side of the carriage, forcing it into movement.

Daroga stood at the base of the stairs, wondering what had just happened. He had heard Erik screaming and before he could get to him, Christine had run down the stairs and out of the house. He carefully climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. When he received no answer, he entered, to find Erik, sat in the armchair in the corner of the room, nibbling on one of the cakes that Mademoiselle Daaé had brought for them.

"I'm going into town now, Mademoiselle Daaé's visit deferred my journey. Is there anything you want?" Erik looked down at the basket and then up to Daroga's face.

"A dozen roses will be all." He replied simply.

It felt as if Daroga had taken hours, although he could have only been an hour and a half at the most. Erik itched to see Christine. He was so utterly embarrassed that he was not sure what to do with himself. He sat, eating the delicious cakes that she had brought for him and then began writing again, the characters for his opera were beginning to take form. But his embarrassment meant that his music sounded awkward and disjointed and, in the end, he gave up.

Once Daroga returned, he found Erik in an embarrassed state and was slightly baffled. He was sure he had never seen his friend embarrassed before and it was a stranger sight than he had ever seen. He dropped the roses off into the music room and turned to walk out.

"Can I borrow the carriage?" He heard Erik ask. He chuckled at the question.

"Of course you can. Where are you planning on going?" Daroga knew where Erik was going, but he still thought it was polite to ask.

"The Daaé residence. Your company will not be required." Daroga understood that his friend wished to be alone with the Daaé girl. He nodded and said that the carriage would be ready soon, before leaving the music room and closing the door behind him.

Christine had not told her Father what had happened with Monsieur Giry. She did not want to upset him or tarnish his opinion of the fine man. She was sure that he was still a fine man, knowing that there must have been a mistake. She simply told her Father that she felt tired and that she was retreating to bed. He had not made much of this and simply told her to call if she needed anything.

She had undressed out of her day dress into her corset and undergarments that she had placed a dressing gown over. She had washed her hair, allowing it to dry in the heat of the summer sun and read for the remainder of the day. She did not want to think of Monsieur Giry, fearing that she would spiral into a dark place which she would much rather not be in.

Her ears pricked up when she heard her father call to her.

"Christine!" She quickly hopped up, no time to change into her day clothes and padded to the living room.

"Christine, come quick, Monsieur Giry has come to see you." She heard her father call as she entered the living room.

"Oh, please Papa, let me go and change. I am not decent to see Monsieur Giry." She begged her Father.

"Do not be so ridiculous, child. I highly doubt Monsieur Giry is a man of such worries." He stated quickly as he guided Christine to the living room.

Erik listened as Christine argued with her father. A small smile grew on his lips, hearing her fiery voice snap back at him. He watched as she tentatively made her way into the living room. His eyes widened when he saw her enter, in a white night gown, her undergarments fully on show. He quickly peeled his eyes away from her body and bowed to her, placing the basket of roses on the floor beside him.

Christine attempted to cover herself with her dressing gown as she curtsied. She watched as Erik delved into the basket which she had left at Monsieur Daroga's house and pulled a dozen blood red roses, tied with black ribbon, from it and held them out to her. She gasped at their beauty and took a few steps towards Erik, taking the roses from him, brushing his hands with hers for a brief moment. She placed them beneath her nose and inhaled deeply, revelling in their scent.

"Sit, monsieur. I shall take these to my room and change. I shall return shortly." She took one last look at the man before bounding off to her room.

Erik took a deep breath as he watched her leave the room. He felt an overwhelming wave of desire rush through him. He stumbled back into one of the chairs and placed a hand across his mouth, laughing quietly. This innocent vixen had awakened in him something he feared he would never truly feel.

Christine's heart raced as she quickly changed. He had brought flowers and had come to apologise. She felt very confused, this kind of behaviour was not in his nature at all. She peered at the red roses, bound with a black ribbon and could not help thinking about the single red rose she had received a week or so before. Could this be a sign from her mother? Was Monsieur Giry perhaps a better man than Christine had made him out to be?

Erik stood when he saw Christine return, dressed in a simple green dress on top of a white blouse. He noticed that she was not wearing any shoes and smiled, knowing that she felt comfortable around him.

"Please, Monsieur, sit." He heard her command. He obliged and watched as she made herself comfortable in the chair opposite. He took a deep breath, wondering what he could possibly say.

"I must apologise, Mademoiselle Daaé, for my unacceptable behaviour earlier today." He stated, wanting to keep things simple. She looked up at him and really looked at him, mask and all for what Erik thought was the first time.

Christine was surprised that Monsieur Giry had apologised and more so that she was perhaps wrong about his personality. She thought him proud and cold, but perhaps she was wrong. She looked at him, really looked at him. Taking in his steely green gaze and his lips softly pursed. He was a handsome man, with a strong tall figure and an elegant sense of fashion. She wondered why he had not been married to a fancy Parisian woman, who could match his decadence. She felt rude staring for too long, so overted her gaze down to the ground.

Erik enjoyed feeling the girl's eyes roam over his body. He couldn't think of what to say, until she looked down to the ground.

"I must also apologise for using your forename this morning, without your permission. It was rude and ungentleman like of me." He thought of her as Christine but he knew that she would probably prefer the more appropriate Mademoiselle Daaé.

Christine listened to Monsieur Giry, remembering him whispering her name that morning.

"Monsieur Giry, if you would like, when we are alone. I would not be closed to the idea of you calling me Christine." She said, politely. She was beginning to enjoy Monsieur Giry's company and she felt comfortable with being on a more personal footing with him.

Erik beamed inside at the response he had received from Christine. She had allowed him to call her by her first name when they were alone. He had never been granted that privilege, had never been close enough to a lady to dream of it.

"I would be honoured, if you would allow me, Christine." He enjoyed the way her name felt in his mouth and he felt he should give her his name in return.

"You may call me Erik when we are in a private setting, if you wish."

Christine felt a strange emotion that she couldn't quite pinpoint when she learnt of Monsieur Giry's name. It was his true name, not one he borrowed from another. It was him, truly him.

"I would very much like that, Erik." His name felt foreign in her mouth and she realised that this was the first piece of truthful information she had learnt about him.

Erik had accepted Christine's invitation to stay for dinner and in the absence of Daroga, took it upon himself to start conversation.

"How is your friend, Mademoiselle Giry?" He had heard that Meg Giry was headed to Paris to train with the ballet in his opera.

"She is loving her training in Paris. She loves the city more than any other place in the world." Christine told Erik excitedly.

"She is always trying to get Christine to go to Paris, but she doesn't like leaving me on my own." Gustav Daaé added.

"You have never been to Paris?" He asked Christine, it did not surprise him as she had none of the obvious flaws that parisian society instilled in their young girls.

"No, Monsieur. I have never found the right opportunity." She stated, looking into his eyes.

"I daresay I prefer the countryside to the city. But, soon I must return and I am sure Daroga will accompany me and go to see Mademoiselle Giry if he can." Erik smiled at Christine, she blushed at the mention of her friend's romantic affair.

"It shall be such a shame to lose you, Monsieur Giry. You are such a fine companion, of which we have far too little in this village." Gustav remarked to Erik. He nodded, beginning to devise a plan to keep Christine with him whilst he worked.

Daroga was glad to see his friend return so late. It was a sign that his trip to the Daaé house had been successful. He watched as Erik returned, smiling and almost happy. He sat beside Daroga, by the fireplace and turned to his friend.

"What do you say to accompanying me to Paris when I return?" Daroga heard his friend ask. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to leave the country. But he did know that he wanted to see Mademoiselle Giry again and the farm would be fine with his staff whilst he was away.

"She will be there." Erik said to Daroga, referring to the Giry girl. Daroga smiled at his friend, glad that he was encouraging of his interest in Meg Giry.

"I will come with you, Erik. When would you like to leave?" Daroga asked, needing to find accommodation in Paris.

"Two days time." Erik announced. Daroga was slightly worried, fearing that he would not be able to find a place to stay, but if things came to the worst, he knew that he could stay in one of Erik's apartments in Paris.


	9. Letters and Questions

The next day was filled with organising. Erik had not yet asked Gustav Daaé if he and his daughter would accompany him. He knew that the answer would be yes. However, he felt slightly nervous as he made his way to the Daaé residence to ask Gustav Daaé. He sat down with the man, his daughter out at the market.

"I would like to use your music in an upcoming opera." He stated and Gustav's face lit up.

"I am honoured Monsieur, truly." Erik smiled, glad that he had made the man so happy.

"I would like both you and your daughter to accompany myself and Daroga to Paris." He demanded.

"You may stay in my townhouse and you shall rehearse in the opera house. Your daughter can spend some time with her friend and enjoy her first stay in the city." He argued his case, wanting Gustav and more importantly Christine to accompany him.

"I would be delighted, Monsieur and I am sure that Christine will be very happy also. When do we leave?" He asked. Erik was slightly nervous about this point.

"Tomorrow, Monsieur, at 10 AM. Is this an issue?" Gustav looked slightly taken aback, which worried Erik. But, soon enough, his face gained composure and he smiled at Erik.

"Of course, Monsieur. I will have Marie pack the bags and my staff will enjoy a well deserved holiday." Erik nodded, glad that things were falling into place.

André sat at his desk at midday, sorting through his letters. His hands stopped when he felt the obvious Phanom seal. He carefully opened the letter and peered down at the beautiful, yet obviously quickly written letter.

Firmin looked over to his friend when he came running into the theatre.

"What on earth is wrong, André?" He asked as he sat down next to Firmin.

"I have received a letter from you know who." Firmin's eyes widened as he looked down at the obvious red broken seal. He lead André out of the theatre and looked down at the letter and then back up to André.

"What does it say then?" He asked quickly.

"Oh yes, of course.

 _Dear Monsieur André,_

 _I am writing you this letter to inform you that I shall be returning within the next few days. I wish to see my opera house in pristine condition when I return. I shall be bringing you a surprise, Monsieur, one I hope you will thoroughly enjoy._

 _Your faithful Servant,_

 _OG"_

André finished reading and looked up at Firmin, who had a worried expression plastered on his face.

"We need to get this place cleaned. NOW!" Firmin cried out, and they both ran straight to the maintenance office.

Christine fumed at her father for not asking her about this trip before agreeing to it.

"How long will we be gone?" She asked him helplessly.

"I do not know, Christine. For as long as Monsieur Giry wants us." She sighed, placing a hand over her eyes.

"When do we leave?" She asked, resigning all efforts to not participate in this trip.

"Tomorrow. I have asked for Marie to pack your clothes." She nodded, leaving the room.

Gustav knew that this was the right decision to make for his daughter. Monsieur Giry saw something in her that he could not see and the only way for her to progress was to continue singing his music. And to do that, she had to be in Paris. He no longer wanted his music to become famous, he wanted his daughter to become famous.


	10. Mother and Daughter

Not knowing how long she would be gone, Christine visited her mother's grave, with the flowers she had picked up from the market that day. The sun was setting and Christine enjoyed the walk in twilight. She knelt before her mother's grave and placed the flowers down.

"Mother, I am not sure how long I shall be away from you. I know that this trip to Paris is what is best for father, but I am frightened. Monsieur Giry and father will always be in the opera house with Meg and Monsieur Daroga will be with her and I fear I will be left alone in the city." She sighed, fearing the life that laid ahead of her.

Erik noticed Christine knelt by a grave and speaking softly on his walk home from the Daaé house.

"Please, Mamen. Things have improved with Monsieur Giry and I fear I could have been wrong about him. Please show me, in some way, if he is a kinder man than I once thought. His music has changed and when I heard him sing, it felt as if he was singing to me. Am I being foolish, Mamen? Could I ever deserve such genius?" Erik heard her pray to her mother. He felt his breath catch in his throat. This angel worried if she was good enough for his affections, he laughed as he continued walking. He touched his mask, wondering why Christine Daaé would ever waste a thought on this face.


	11. The Journey

The carriage arrived at the house the next day and Christine helped Marie with the bags. They stood at the doorway.

"Have a nice time in Paris, Mademoiselle." Marie said, with a twinge of sadness in her voice.

"I am not sure when I shall be back Marie, but know that your salary will be paid and you shall be looked after." Marie smiled, knowing that she was not going to become destitute. She embraced Christine, before wishing her goodbye and watching her climb into the carriage, after her father.

Erik watched as Christine bid farewell to her maid. He smiled as they embraced. She was such an affectionate girl to those she cared about and he was determined to make himself one of those select few, remembering what he had heard the previous day. He smiled ever so slightly as she sat opposite him in Daroga's carriage.

"Thank you, Monsieur Giry, for inviting me to accompany you on this trip." She looked up at him with worry in her eyes.

"It is my pleasure, Mademoiselle Daaé." He replied and that was all that was said.

Daroga was unfathomably excited about seeing Meg Giry again. He couldn't imagine what she looked like dancing on stage, but he couldn't wait to find out. He looked over at Gustav Daaé, who had now fallen asleep and chuckled at the light snore he was filling the carriage with. He then looked over to Christine Daaé, who was wistfully looking out the window of the carriage. She really was a sight to behold in her lavender dress that fell from her shoulders. Her skin was translucent and her hair softly curled around her sweet face. With a face like hers and a voice like she had, there was no way she would be leaving Paris soon and knowing that was not her wish made him pity the Daaé girl immensely.

Erik looked over to Daroga and Gustav, who were both sleeping. He then turned his eyes to Christine, who was looking out into the countryside.

"Will you miss the country, Christine?" He asked. He noticed a tear fall onto her cheek as she looked into his eyes.

"Very much so." She said softly, holding back more tears he was sure.

"I am sure that you will find diversions in Paris that will take your mind off of your longing." He soothed her, attempting to make her transition as easy as possible, knowing that she would not be returning soon.

"I do hope so." She replied. He was sure that she would have a diverting time in Paris, because he was going to make sure that she was kept fully occupied at the opera.

The trip was long and Christine had slept for the last leg of the journey. She awoke as they stopped. Her eyes flitted open and she saw Erik's green eyes bore through her in the dark.

"I must go. Come to the opera house at ten." Erik said to Christine. She nodded before he hopped out of the carriage and collected his things, disappearing into the dark.

The house that Gustav and Christine had been given was lovely. It was a townhouse, not far from the opera. It had all of the furnishings that Christine had expected and she sighed when she entered her room. Which was fitted with all of the powdery and elegant touches that made her stomach churn.

Erik could not wait to be back in his home. He revelled in the darkness when he returned and felt very much himself again. He could not take his mind off of Christine Daaé as he unpacked. He wanted to see her, down here, lit by the candle light. But, it would not be that easy. He had to make her trust him and to make her want him. He, for the first time in his life, wanted someone in his house with him. He wanted someone in his life. The first thing he had to do was to move Christine into the opera house and into the role of lead soprano.

André shuddered as the letter fell from the ceiling outside of his office. He quickly picked up the letter and read it aloud to Firmin.

" _Gentleman,_

 _I am satisfied with the state of my opera house. I must ask a favour. I am receiving some guests tomorrow and would like you to show them around. It is very important to me that they get a good impression, so I must ask that you are on your best behaviour. Their names are Gustav and Christine Daaé and they shall be arriving at ten tomorrow morning._

 _Your humble Servant,_

 _OG"_

They both sat, both in relief and nervousness. They could not wait for the next day to come and go, so that they could be free of another one of the Phantom's wishes.


	12. Angel Of The Opera House

Christine awoke at half past eight and stood by her wardrobe for a long while. She wanted to make a good first impression on the owners of the opera house. Her mind was pulled away from fashion when she heard a knock on the door.

"Mademoiselle, I am Amelié. I am here to dress you for the day." The little dark haired girl informed Christine. She invited her in and allowed her to decide which dress to wear.

"Oh this one, most definitely, Mademoiselle." She held up the most extravagant of Christine's gowns. It was white, with many layers to the flared skirt and had an intricate bodice. She sighed and nodded, knowing that it would make her father happy to see her in such an elegant dress.

It took a short while to get into the dress, undergarments and all. Amelié dressed up Christine's hair similarly to how Meg used to, half up, with long curls falling down her back. Christine was shocked when Amilié pinched her cheeks, she guessed that this was a trend amongst parisian women.

Gustav gasped when he saw his daughter descend the staircase. She looked like an angel, dressed in white. He knew she was probably very uncomfortable and he was very grateful to her for making such an effort to make a good first impression on the owners of the opera house.

Christine was glad that her father was also dressed in his finest dinnerware. They looked quite the couple as they walked to the opera populaire. A couple of men walked past and tipped their top hats to Christine. She blushed and hastened her pace in order to pass them.

Christine let her mouth fall open in awe of the opera house. It was furnished in cream and gold, with hundreds of candles lit to illuminate the foyer. She and her father were greeted by two men. One was short with bushy grey hair and the other was much taller with black styled hair and a mustache. They greeted Christine and her father before commencing the tour.

André could not help noticing how beautiful Mademoiselle Daaé was. She had a proportionate figure and had very fair clear skin with rosy cheeks. Her hair was voluminous and curly, framing her face beautifully and she wore her white gown with elegance, whereas it would have eaten other women up.

Christine was quite taken aback by the sensational opera house. Once they had finished the tour, the two men wished to speak to Gustav about Monsieur Giry and left Mademoiselle Daaé to roam the opera freely. She found a door that she guessed led to the changing rooms. She opened it and peered in.

"Christine." She heard a voice call out her.

"Who is there?" She asked to the invisible voice.

"Christine, come to me." She remembered her prayer to her mother and followed the voice, wondering if it could be the angel of music. For where else would be more fitting for him to appear than a house of music?

Erik had heard Christine enter his opera house. He had heard Gustav introduce his daughter to André and Firmin whilst he was shaving and he longed greatly to see Christine again. They had left her to her own devices and he knew now was the moment to strike. He stood in a hollow where he knew she could not see him and called out to her.

"Christine." His voice always sounded different, more lyrical in the opera house, and Christine did not recognise it as Erik. He wanted desperately to hold her, to use the layers of that white gown to pull her close and feel her skin against his. But no, he could not, not yet at least. He had to get Christine her job first.

Christine followed the voice and began running through the backstage of the opera, wanting to find this angel.

"Christine, calm yourself." She heard the voice command her. She stopped running and took a deep breath.

"Please, tell me what you want." She begged, wanting to know what she could do for this being.

"Sing for me Christine, I want you to sing." Christine was slightly bewildered when she heard the request. The only song that came to mind was the Monsieur Giry's song that she had sung for him.

Erik closed his eyes and sighed, finally hearing her voice reverberate off of the walls of his opera house. He had never heard anything like it in his life.

"Angel of music

Guide and Guardian

Grant me to your glory." He heard her voice fill the space and knew he had to hear her on stage.

Christine felt rather silly, walking along, singing to an invisible voice.

"Come to the stage, Christine, give me your song." She heard the voice instruct and she made her way to the stage, singing to what she now was sure was the angel of music.

Erik watched as she walked to the stage. People had come from their dressing rooms to listen to Christine sing and they were all questioning where this angelic voice was coming from. He watched from the back of the auditorium as she walked out onto the stage. She belonged on that stage, under the lights in that white gown, singing with all her might. He had never been so sure of anything.

Firmin had been talking with Monsieur Daaé about collaborating with Monsieur Giry, when his sentence was interrupted by a voice.

"Angel of music

Hide no longer

Secret and strange angel." Both Firmin and André looked up in shock and awe.

"Who on earth is that?" André asked Firmin.

"I don't think that voice is of earth." He remarked, certain that this wasn't the voice of Carlotta.

"That is my daughter, Christine." Gustav said in a proud voice. Both men looked up to him then began walking quickly to the auditorium.

Christine stopped singing when she noticed her father and the two owners of the opera house sat in the seats of the auditorium. Her face turned bright red as she looked down to her hands. A short balding man walked out onto the stage and this was when Christine had noticed that the wings were filled with spectators.

"Mademoiselle," The balding man began. "What is your name?" He asked in awe.

"I am Christine Daaé, Monsieur." He nodded, bowing his head to her.

"And where, Mademoiselle Daaé, did you learn to sing like that?" He asked slowly.

"I have had no formal teaching, Monsieur. Only the guiding words of my Papa." Christine gestured to her father sitting in the audience.

Christine was implored by the owners and the maestro, the balding man, to sing one of her father's songs for them. She turned bright red as her father began playing the introduction to "Think of Me".

Firmin leant over to his friend and colleague and whispered:

"We must have her, André. Do you know how much people would pay to hear that voice." He pointed up to Christine, whose voice filled the entire auditorium.

"Along with that face, she is unlike anything I have ever seen before." They were in total agreement that they had to have Christine as their new soprano.

Erik watched, with joy as Firmin and André lead Christine into their office. He would be sorry to not hear Carlotta sing again, but that was a small price to pay for Christine Daaé.

Christine left the office feeling very mixed up. They had offered her the lead in their production of Il Muto. They had heard her sing once and they were convinced that she was far superior to the woman they had already. She sought out Meg after her meeting and found her quickly.

"Christine, I heard you. We all thought you were an angel." Christine smiled down at her hands, unsure as how to reply to that comment.

"Meg, do you really like it here? In Paris I mean." Meg thought for a short moment.

"I'm not going back, Christine. I have been offered a contract with the opera to dance with the ballet. I love it here, I truly do." Christine took Meg's hands in hers and smiled up at her.

"They have offered me the lead in Il Muto." She said quietly. Meg gasped.

"Christine, you must do it. If you don't enjoy it then you can return to the country. You will regret it immensely if you do not." Christine nodded, knowing that it was true. Could she possibly stay in Paris whilst her father returned home? That was going to be a bridge that she would cross once she got there.

Christine and her father left the opera. Christine had promised to return the following day to give André and Firmin her decision. She thought sleeping on the idea might help.

At dinner, Christine's father admitted something to her.

"Christine. The men who run the opera have said that they will stage my opera if you agree to sing for them." Christine looked up at her father and the look in his eyes, coupled with what he had just said was enough for Christine to make her decision.

"I am going to do it, Papa. I am going to sing for them." Gustav stretched across the table and grasped Christine's hand in his.  
"I have never been so proud of you, my child. You are making both your mother and I so proud." She smiled at her father, glad that she was pleasing him. At the mention of her mother, she wondered if the voice she had heard was the angel of music, or just a figment of her imagination. This question remained with her until she laid her head down onto the pillow to sleep.


	13. A New Home

Erik watched as Christine entered the opera house, alone this time. He had never hoped before. But he hoped dearly that she would take the part in Il Muto. He smiled down at her, wearing a pastel yellow dress, with her cheeks pinched and a cape around her shoulders.

André smiled as he saw Christine walk up to his door. Before knocking, he called out to her:

"Please, Mademoiselle Daaé, come in!" She entered and he felt his face soften when he saw her. She was wearing an elegant, yet subtle pastel yellow dress with a deep mahogany cape. He truly did think she was stunning. He thought back to the letter he had received the night before. The Phantom had instructed André and Firmin to place Christine in a particular dressing room were she to accept the Il Muto role.

Christine felt her palms become sweaty as she sat before Monsieur André.

"I have made my decision, Monsieur." He smiled and gestured for her to go on.

"I will take the role in Il Muto." Monsieur André laughed with glee.

"You shall never know how joyous that makes me, Mademoiselle Daaé." She smiled back at him, beginning to feel excited herself.

Firmin was called into André's office, where he saw Christine Daaé sit. André smiled from ear to ear and Firmin knew that that meant that Mademoiselle Daaé had agreed to sing for them.

"Firmin, Mademoiselle Daaé has agreed to sing for us in the production of Il Muto." Firmin smiled and took Christine by the hand.

"I am so glad, Mademoiselle." He now knew that he had to breach the subject of her living in the opera house.

"Mademoiselle, now that you have agreed to take the role, you shall need to move into the opera house and live here." He expected an argument or some pouting. However, Christine rose and looked him in the eye.

"Will you show me my room, Monsieur? I am very tired and would very much like to rest." She smiled coyly.

Christine dearly hoped that her confident facade had covered the fact that she was terrified. The two men showed her to her room and said that they would collect her when she was required. The room was beautiful, fitted with mirrors and roses of red and white. It seemed very dark to Christine and she dared say that she already missed the light of her country cottage.

Erik watched as Christine stripped off her dress. He overted his eyes when she ripped her corset open, gasping for air. The dear child was nervous. He had never seen someone so nervous in his life and he knew he had to do something to calm her nerves.

Christine attempted to bring her breathing back to a normal pace. She gasped when she saw the single red rose laying on her vanity, wrapped in a black ribbon. She was unsure if this was the work of an angel or Monsieur Giry. But right now, both ideas offered her comfort. She placed the rose to her lips and smiled, glad that somebody was looking down on her. She then retreated to her bed and allowed herself to rest properly for the first time in days.

Erik sat at his desk, scribbling away with a charcoal pencil onto his parchment. He had never seen anything as delicate as Christine with his rose pressed to her lips. He was beginning to realise that he did not just want her voice, he wanted her, all of her.

Christine's father had visited her and admitted that although he was sad to be parted from her, he was glad that she was in the opera house, meeting many new people and furthering her career. Rehearsals started the next day and Christine stood, in the centre of the stage, gripping the sheet music as the large man with the beard sung to her. She feared that her voice was shaky and that she was not living up to her reputation. But everyone sat around and watched her in wonder, which made her fears fade a little.

Daroga gazed in wonder, up at Mademoiselle Daaé. He was so proud that she had taken the plunge and stepped into the role. His arm brushed with Meg Giry's and he smiled down at her. He could not have been happier about the way she had greeted him. She had jumped up into his arms and cried about how wonderful it was to see him again, before she found herself and became the image of propriety once again.

Carlotta looked over at the new soprano, the girl who had taken her part. She bit her lip as she thought of herself in the silent role. If the girl could not sing as she could she would have been far more angry, but, for now, she was swept up in the wonder of Christine Daaé with everyone else. She huffed and pouted, knowing that screaming and shouting had worked in the past, but it would not work now.

Christine sat beside Daroga and watched as Meg rehearsed with the ballet. She looked over at Daroga, who was in absolute awe and wonder of Meg as she galloped across the stage. Christine had never seen her friend dance and she had to admit that she was one of the best up there, despite being a novice.

"Mademoiselle Daaé, might I ask you a question?" She heard Daroga whisper to her. She nodded, not wanting to disrupt anyone.

"How do you think Mademoiselle Giry views our relationship?" Christine looked over to the nervous man. She remembered the time when Meg had told her that she thought Daroga was "the best of men".

"I am sure that she views you in the highest regard. You must spend more time with her, Monsieur, and with her mother." Daroga nodded, content with Christine's reply and got back to watching the ballet.


	14. The First Serenade

Erik watched as Christine wandered back to her dressing room after rehearsal. He couldn't help but notice that she was looking rather glum. Daroga and Meg Giry had gone out for dinner and he had guessed that she had not wanted to intrude. Once she got to the room, she stripped off, as she had the day before and sat on her bed contemplating, he thought her a rather tragic sight and decided that this would not do.

Christine sat, wondering why she was not as enchanted with singing in the opera as she had thought she would be. Her voice was good, people had assured her of that. But she wanted to sound the way she had with Monsieur Giry. She let her head fall into her hands and sighed, unsure as what to do.

Her head rose from her hands when she heard a piano, faintly in the distance.

"Slowly, gently

Night unfurls its splendor." She heard a familiar voice sing. She stood and approached the mirror, which sounded like the source of the melody. When the music paused for a moment, she pressed her forehead to the glass, wanting to be closer to him.

"Erik, angel of music, whoever you are. Please, tell me what to do!" She pleaded into the emptiness.

Erik heard Christine pleading and gasped, feeling something deep in his stomach that made him want to hold her so tightly she would never leave.

"Turn your face away

From the garish light of day.

Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light,

And listen to the music of the night." He stopped, wanting her to dwell on what he had said. He wanted her down here, with him in the darkness. However, there seemed to be something cruel about taking such a creature away from the light that illuminated her being like the day in the garden that he so remembered. He thought back to how pleasant the sun had felt on his face and more importantly, how much joy seeing Christine bathe in the sun brought him and he wondered if perhaps there was a compromise that needed to be made on his part.

Christine sat and thought about what she had heard for a long time. She was sure that the voice that sung to her was Erik. She thought that maybe he had visited the opera house and was practicing on stage. But that did not explain why she heard his voice so clearly through her mirror. She now knew that this voice was the one who beckoned her to sing before. She was beginning to think that the angel of music that she had asked her mother for to help her with Monsieur Giry was in fact Monsieur Giry himself. He made her feel something no one else could and he gave her something to sing for a purpose behind her voice.


	15. Solitude and Longing

Erik watched as Christine left the opera house, basket in hand, with Mademoiselle Giry. He was glad that she was getting some fresh air and visiting the market. She had been cooped up inside for weeks during rehearsals and now that they were finished, she could enjoy herself and he was glad. She had been working so hard, with the opera's rehearsals and her personal training he gave her, she had improved immensely but she deserved a break.

Christine whispered to her friend as they walked through the opera house.

"Meg he sings to me, through the mirror, I hear Monsieur Giry's voice." Meg looked up at Christine with wide eyes. Christine could remember each time she would go and sit by the mirror, hearing him sing for her. He had been giving her personal training, through the walls, his voice directing her and she wanted to see him desperately.

"This is his opera house, Christine. Although André and Firmin own it, he is the one who runs it. He lives in these walls, he is part of the building." Meg said excitedly to her friend. Christine looked back at the opera house when they left and wondered where Erik lived, if he was a resident.

Daroga met with Christine and Meg in the centre of town, to journey with them to the market.

"Have you visited Monsieur Giry, Monsieur Daroga?" He looked down nervously, thinking about Christine's question. They had been in Paris for a month now and it would seem very odd if he replied that no, he hadn't visited Erik. However, if he said that he had, she might wonder why he had not visited her.

"No, Mademoiselle Daaé. I have written him many letters, but he has been busy and has not had time to see me." He hated lying to the girl, but it was for her own good.

Christine wondered why Erik had not com to see her whilst they had been in Paris. If the voice that she heard was in fact his, then why did he not visit her in person? She missed his obvious presence and the way she felt when they were together. She enjoyed singing together, of course. But it was not enough, she wanted to see him.

Daroga thought back to the time that he had visited Erik. He was taken aback by the level of his fascination with the Daaé girl. He had drawn her dozens of times, and written songs exclusively for her.

"Do you want her down here, with you?" He asked Erik, wondering if Christine would enjoy the darkness that he lived in.

"I want her with me. I hope, in time, she feels the same." He said quietly. Daroga wondered if he was willing to compromise and let Christine live in the light and retreat to the darkness at night.

He was brought from his train of thought when Christine turned to him and said:

"I do so miss his company. I fear I may have judged him blindly. He is unlike any man I have known. He will not see me though. Perhaps I have disappointed him." He looked down at the poor girl and sighed.

"Erik is a man who has lived his whole life in solitude. The thought of letting someone into his life is terrifying for him and you must give him time. You have not disappointed him, trust me with that fact. He is just nervous." Christine smiled down at her basket and Daroga decided to run after Meg Giry and bestow his attentions on her for the remainder of the day.

When they returned, Erik was shocked to find Daroga entering his house.

"Why are you here?" He asked him, slightly aggravated that he had entered without asking.

"For her." He pointed upwards. Erik sighed. He knew that he was not treating Christine the way that she deserved, but he was sure that she could not feel anything for the monster he knew he was.

"We spoke today." Daroga began. "She misses you." Erik smiled softly, thinking of his angel missing him. They walked past a mirror and he stopped for a moment.

"How can she? How can she miss this?" He pointed to his mask.

"You do her a great disjustice for thinking her so shallow." Erik felt the hurt in Daroga's words. Was he right? Christine was unlike anyone he had ever met, but could she look past his face to see his soul?

"You must go and see her. It is opening night and she will be frightened. Go to her after the performance and convince her she did well. She is sure that she has let you down because you will not see her." Erik was convinced and decided that he would see Christine after her debut. He could not have her thinking that she was a disappointment to him.


	16. Opening Night

Christine's heart raced as a lady pinned her wig down. She was terrified of missing a word or forgetting a line.

"Breathe, Christine." She heard from the voice in the walls. She took a deep breath and felt infinitely better.

"You have been trained well, child. You will be perfect." She heard Erik whisper.

"Will you be there?" She whispered back.

"In box number five." She nodded, glad that he was there to support her.

André and Firmin sat in box one and looked on to the closed curtains.

"She has never performed in front of an audience. What if she freezes?" André worried to his friend.

"She won't. He has been training her, the Giry girl told me that Christine spoke of a voice coming from her mirror, guiding her through her material." Firmin assured André. He nodded and before he could say anything, the music began and the curtain lifted.

Erik watched from the concealed section of box five. She was perfect, the audience were stunned into silence by Christine's voice. He watched the first act, revelling in his creation and then retreated to his lair, to prepare himself to see Christine.

Christine scooped up the flowers that laid at her feet at the end of her performance. She took her final curtsy and sashayed off stage. She handed the flowers to Meg, who took them happily, smiling at Christine.

"You were perfect!" She squealed, so glad that her friend would be able to stay with her in paris to perform more operas. Christine stripped out of her gown, left in a light white dress, with her corset and underclothes. She removed the wig before making her way back to her dressing room. She heard Firmin and André leading a young bachelor to her room.  
"I am sure she will love to hear your words of praise, Monsieur." She then hurried, wanting to beat them to her room and lock herself in.

Erik watched as she hurried into the room and locked the door behind her. When she turned to face him, her eyes widened.

"Erik!" She whispered in shock and the smile that grew on her face filled him with such joy. She ushered him to a chair and asked him to sit, whilst she changed. He watched her silhouette behind the changing board, feeling sinful and invasive, but not being able to stop.

Christine changed quickly, she had wanted to throw herself into his arms when she had seen him stood in her room. But she was sure that he would feel threatened by such an act. She changed into a night dress and a dressing gown, then returned to sit on her bed, opposite Erik.

Erik moved to sit beside Christine on her bed. He was unsure how to say what he wanted about her performance, so he opted for his usual tactic and pulled a single red rose from his jacket. Christine's face lit up and turned a deep shade of red. She once again held the flower under her nose and inhaled deeply.

Once Christine had placed the rose on her dressing table, she sat back beside Erik and looked at him, for the first time in a month. His hair was darker and he looked paler than usual.

"Let me see if she is in for you, Monsieur." Christine heard Firmin outside the door. She quickly placed a hand on Erik's hand and placed a finger to her lips.

The managers soon left and Erik noticed that Christine had not moved her hand. Her skin felt so soft against his glove and he wished he could feel her skin against his.

"You were gone for such a long time." Christine pinned to Erik, making his heart yearn for the girl.

"I was not gone, only hidden." He smiled, wanting her to know that he was always watching.

"Perhaps. I did miss you, ever so much." She frowned looking down at their hands. Erik felt his heart begin to race.

"I will try to not stay away for too long again." He remarked and Christine's face lit up.

"Oh please don't, I do so enjoy our time together. And merely singing with you is nothing compared to being with you and being able to see you." He almost felt his mouth fall agape. She wanted to see him? Who on this earth would want to see such a horrid creature?

Christine knew that he would leave soon and she was unsure as to when he would return to her. She felt a longing within her, even before he had left. When he did rise, he held onto her hand and she rose also. He bowed and kissed the back of her hand before looking into her eyes.

"If you ever need me, Christine, all you ever need do is ask." Before she could say anything he was gone. She sat back on her bed and thought about what emotion had bloomed since she had last seen Monsieur Giry and what she could possibly do about it.


	17. Pleading

Erik sat in his music room and sighed with relief. He had finished the final song of his opera: Don Juan Triumphant. He was very happy with how the process had gone and was equally impressed with how Christine appeared to improve every night she sung. He would stand in box five and gaze down upon her. He was sure now that this emotion he was feeling was love. He hated not being able to see her or hear her. He longed to be in her presence all of the time and envied the men who could spend ample amounts of time with her. He had not visited for two weeks after his visit on opening night. He wished he could, but he felt something stopping him, something preventing him from taking this further.

His head snapped up from the sheet music when he heard Christine weeping in her dressing room.

"Erik, I am not sure if you can hear me. But please, send me a sign that you are not gone. That you have not tired of my voice and I." Erik felt a tear trickle down his cheek as he heard her weep. He could not just stumble into her room and beg her forgiveness this time. He would have to do something grand and elegant.

Meg had beamed, speaking of nothing but the masquerade ball the next day and how Monsieur Daroga had asked to accompany her. Christine was in very low spirits, being away from Erik for two weeks now. She feared that he had found another woman to bestow his affections upon. When she got to her room, she saw her mirror and could hold the tears back no longer. She collapsed by the mirror and wept. She had not heard Erik sing in over a week now and she missed him more than he could possibly know. She received no answer to her question and sighed, retreating to bed, feeling defeated.


	18. Masquerade Ball

Meg heard a knock on her door and opened it to find Daroga, wearing the mask of a bear. She giggled, placing her bird mask up to her face for a moment as well. Daroga looked down at her beautiful blue feather dress and gripped it with one hand, pulling her closer. Meg cried out with fits of giggles. Their acquaintance had become romantic whilst they had been in Paris and both Meg and Daroga were elated that her mother was agreeing of the match. Daroga pulled the mask off of his face for a moment and kissed Meg on the cheek, before leading her out of her room and towards the ball.

Christine stood by the mirror and looked at herself, she thought she looked more handsome than she had ever before. Her dusty pink dress fell from her shoulders and flared out to the floor in a elegant gown. The bodice was decorated with gold designs and her mask matched, covering the space around her eyes. She secured the mask before looking at herself once again, then leaving the room.

Erik stood behind the two way mirror. Christine looked more beautiful than any other woman he had ever seen. He knew that his plan would work and that he would blend in, his mask being camouflaged in the sea of masked men. He took one last look at Christine, before getting into position.

Christine walked to the hall alone, feeling rather lonely. Suddenly, she cried out as she was pulled into a crevice in the wall.

"Shhh, Christine, it is alright, I am here." Erik whispered in her ear. She gasped, feeling him so close.

"Where have you been?" She asked, hurt that he had left her for so long.

"Preparing. I have written you an opera, Christine." He whispered, his hands deep in the folds of her skirt. Erik sighed when she did not reply. Perhaps he had come on too strong. Perhaps he had been too violent in his courting. He had one last trick up his sleeve that he could use.

"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation." He began singing. He felt Christine relax back into his grip as he sung to her.

Christine leant back against Erik as he sang to her:

"Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world

Leave all thought of the life you knew before." She turned to him, gripping his jacket with both hands.

"Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar.

And you'll live as you've never lived before." Christine felt her eyes fall closed and let her head fall back in ecstasy.

Erik couldn't handle seeing Christine's face in such pleasure. He turned her body around facing away from him and took her hand in his, bringing it to his face.

"Touch me, trust me

Savour each sensation." He revelled in the feeling of Christine's soft hand on his face.

Christine listened to each word, now sure that his affections for her were as deep, if not deeper than hers for him. She felt him push away the curls behind her ear and touch his lips to the skin there.

"Let your darker side give in

To the power of the music that I write

The power of the music of the night." She felt his gloved hands across her collarbones as he caressed her skin.

"You alone can make my song take flight,

Help me make the music of the night." The last note made Christine sigh in wonder. She took Erik by the hand and began leading him towards the hall.

Erik was nervous about being around so many people, but as long as Christine was in his arms, he did not have a care in the world. Her reaction to his proclamation had exceeded his expectations. He had expected at least a little pouting or argument, but she had accepted that he had been away, writing her opera and had taken his hand freely and willingly.

André watched in both terror and delight as Christine walked into the hall, looking like an angel, on the arm of the elusive OG. Although he wore a skull mask in place of his classic porcelain number, he recognised it to be him. André prodded Firmin and pointed at the couple, Christine smiling up at him.

"Could that be our Christine Daaé, on the arm of OG?" Firmin asked in shock.

"They make a fine couple, do they not?" André asked and Firmin laughed and smiled.

"They do indeed. Why shouldn't he have a beautiful partner for the dance? We might think that he is mighty horrid, but he is a genius." They laughed together and left Erik and Christine to their own devices.

Gustav watched from across the room as Christine entered the hall on the arm of Monsieur Giry. He was breath taken by the couple. With Giry dressed in red and black, with long black boots and Christine in her rose dress. No one could say that they did not suit. He was amazed by how well Christine had fit into the Parisian society. But when he thought about it, Monsieur Giry was not exactly a true representation of society. He was quirky and a little rude. But when he saw his daughter looking up at him with unmistakable love in her eyes, he could not disagree with the match.


	19. The Reveal

Christine and Erik danced a single waltz. Christine loved the way that Erik's arm wrapped around her waist and Erik couldn't get his fill of Christine being so close. After the waltz was over, she lead him out into the night and they sat on a perch atop the roof of the opera house. Erik draped his red cloak across Christine's shoulders and watched as she pulled her mask off to reveal her flawless skin.

"Will you not do the same?" She asked him. He held up a hand, in defense of his mask.

"What lies beneath this mask is not beautiful as under yours. It is only darkness." Christine thought for a while, unhappy that she was being kept from knowing everything about Erik.

Erik felt ashamed of his defensive actions. He looked down at his gloved hands, embarrassed by his behaviour.

"No more talk of darkness

Forget these wide eyed fears.

I'm here, nothing can harm you

My words will warm and calm you." He heard Christine sing. He looked up to her in awe, hearing her beautiful words.

"Let me be your freedom,

Let daylight dry your tears.

I'm here with you, beside you

To guard you and to guide you." He knew he had to respond, he could not believe that this wonderous girl was professing her love to him, the ghost in the mask.

Christine wanted to pour her heart out to Erik and show him that she didn't care if he had scars under his mask, she wanted him for him. For his music and his voice and whatever was behind that accessory. She sighed a breath of relief when she heard Erik reply to her in song.

"Say you'll want me, every waking moment,

Turn my head with talk of summertime.

Say you'll need me with you now and always,

Promise me that all you say is true, that's all I ask of you." She stood and smiled down at him. He wished to be accepted, just as she did. He wanted a companion, someone to spend his days with and she wanted nothing more than to fulfill his wish.

Erik stood as Christine led him, walking him to the middle of the platform and stood him before her. She gripped both of his hands and looked deeply into his eyes.

"Let me be your shelter, let me be your light,

You're safe no one will find you

You're fears are far behind you." He did not resist this time, he felt her fingers lift away the mask and he stood, in the moonlight, ready for her to judge him.

Christine was glad that Erik had put up no resistance, she lifted away the mask and turned his face to the side and examined the scars. They were far from what he had led her to believe. They were faint and raised a little, but, as she ran her fingers across the scarred skin, she found she like this quirk very much, because it was part of what made Erik who he was.

Erik stood, in the silence, in fear that she would reject him. To his total surprise, she placed a tender kiss on the scarred side of his face and stroked it with her fingers. Looking up at him once again.

"These are not flaws, Erik. I do not see darkness here." He let out a small cry of joy. She had seen him, truly seen him and accepted him for who he was. She was the first person to not cry out in terror or disgust. She was the first to be kind and gentle. Words eluded him in this moment and he simply laid his head against hers and knotted his hands in her hair, wanting her as close as possible.

Christine closed her eyes as Erik placed a kiss on her forehead. She felt truly intoxicated by the heat radiating from him. All too soon he had pulled away and was leading her down the stairs. Christine was awfully tired and she wished to go back to her room and rest. Erik placed his mask back on and led her, by hand, back to her room.

Christine undressed slowly, thinking back over what had happened. Erik had surprised her and professed his feelings for her. She sat down on her bed and placed a hand over her mouth, giggling. He had allowed her to see his face and had shown her his biggest insecurity. She smiled into her pillow as she fell to sleep, knowing that more was to come the following morning.


	20. Rehearsals

Firmin stood motionlessly as he looked at the sealed folder on his desk. He broke the seal carefully and retrieved the letter from inside.

 _Monsieur Firmin,_

 _I have written you an opera, Monsieur. I dearly hope that it shall be put into rehearsal as soon as possible. Our Christine Daaé shall play the lead and you two gentlemen may cast the remaining roles as you please._

 _Your indebted servant,_

 _OG._

He called the conductor and André into his office and they sat down together and read through Don Juan Triumphant.

"So?" André asked expectantly, to the conductor.

"It is good. Better than the rest." Firmin looked at the balding man in shock.

"Better than the rest?!" He asked in a dazed voice. He chuckled and nodded his head.

"It has feeling. The others are musically brilliant, but they have no emotion." Firmin and André looked to one another, knowing that this new found feeling would have been created by the voice of Christine Daaé.

After the scripts had been copied up, Don Juan Triumphant was put into rehearsal. Christine had never enjoyed singing so much as when she sung her aria in act two. She was almost certain that Erik had written the two leading roles based on himself and her. She felt very uncomfortable with Piangi playing her male lead. He was far too handsy at moments and she could tell he was revelling in being put in a romance with a much younger woman.

Erik watched in disgust from box five as rehearsals continued. Everything was almost perfect, apart from him. He watched as Piangi ran his hands across his Christine as they sang "The Point of No Return". Christine sang beautifully but there was no emotion in her voice. She stuttered as the short fat man pulled her far closer than need be and Erik felt his fingernails dig into the wall behind him. He decided that Piangi had to go. He was a nightmare in the role and Erik knew then that he was the only one who could play the role.

Christine had seen very little of Erik once rehearsals for Don Juan Triumphant had started. However, she knew that he was there, watching and listening to rehearsals. And as small things changed, she knew that he was editing his work. She understood that he was keeping his distance for a short while and that perhaps he was nervous about their courting. Christine would give him time, but she would make her feelings known if he were to stay away for much longer.


	21. Selfless Love

Daroga stood in a state of disbelief, listening to Erik.

"You want to what?!" He asked, not sure he was hearing correctly.

"I want to move into the city, above ground." He said, matter of factly. Daroga couldn't conceive a reason for his doing this.

"Why would you want to do that?" He asked, not understanding him.

"For her." Erik looked up and Daroga followed his eyes and realised his motive: Christine.

"She has seen me, without my mask and she did not cry out, she greeted me with kindness. I can not keep an angel like her underground. She needs to be up in the light, out in the sun." Erik sighed, knowing he was doing the right thing.

"But you love it down here, in the darkness." Daroga was aware that Erik thought he belonged in the dark.

"But I love her more." Was his simple answer. Daroga smiled for a moment and nodded.

"Of course. I shall arrange for some men to come and collect your things. Do you want your piano to stay here, in case you wish to come back and write?" Erik shook his head.

"She is my muse, not this place. I can not be selfish anymore, I have to put her first." Daroga was in awe of his friend. It was the first time he had seen him be truly selfless. He was giving up his home to be with her.

As he left his friend, Daroga was filled with inspiration. He ran to Meg Giry's room and pounded on the door. He had known for weeks that he had wanted Meg for his wife, but he was nervous and selfish, wanting to remain a single man for a while longer. But, if Erik could live amongst society for Christine, he could propose to Meg.

Meg quickly threw on a robe, over her undergarments and opened the door. She gasped when Daroga burst through the door and walked past her, throwing himself onto one knee and taking her hand.

"Meg Giry, I have loved you from the moment that I saw you, bathed in sunlight in the Daaé garden. Every moment that you are not mine is wasted. Meg, make the happiest man on the planet and say that you will be my wife?" Meg let out a small laugh of joy. She had been waiting for him to ask her for weeks and at every opportunity, he would change the subject. She felt a tear roll down her cheek as she nodded her head.

"Yes, of course, yes." Daroga laughed and stood, picking Meg up in a tight embrace. When he placed her feet back onto the ground, he leant down and placed his first kiss on her lips. They both revelled in the moment, glad that not one more moment was going to be spent in solitude.

Erik watched Daroga and the Giry girl kiss. He hoped that soon, he and Christine would be able to share such passionate gestures. Whenever he saw her on stage, he felt a guttural desire come over him and he had to suppress it before listening to her voice. He wanted her close, he wanted to be the one caressing her in her peasant costume that left little to the imagination. He longed for her to sing to him as she had the night of the masquerade ball. He loved her more than she would ever know and he made the decision that was going to change everything.


	22. Don Juan Triumphant

Christine was sat in her dressing room, the opening night of Don Juan Triumphant. She felt incredibly lonely, not seeing Erik for weeks now. She had heard him and she knew that he was there, but the news of Meg's engagement had made Christine both amazingly happy and also incredibly envious. Daroga had been so forward in pursuing Meg and Christine wished that Erik would be the same. She dreamt of him pulling her into his arms and kissing her deeply. She blushed, thinking such scandalous thoughts, but she loved him and couldn't stand to be parted from him a day longer. She sat by her mirror and stared at herself, hoping that Erik was listening.

"Erik, I hope you can hear me. I know you will be watching tonight and I hope that I do your wonderful opera justice. Just please, one thing is all I ask, make yourself known to me, show me that you are still here and that all you said is still true." She touched the glass, before making her way to the stage.

Erik had heard Christine's plea and could not wait to see her face when she saw him instead of Piangi. He chuckled thinking of her angelic face in an expression of shock. He then thought of his hands pressing onto her bare flesh and couldn't contain himself. He wanted her more than any man had wanted a woman, he was sure.

Christine was nervous as she stood at the wings of the stage. Two months ago, she was sitting in her armchair, reading fairytales and now she was the soprano for the Paris opera. She couldn't believe that things had changed so much in such a short space of time. She heard her queue and centred her skirt, before walking, barefooted onto the stage.

Raoul sat in box three and waited in anticipation to see Christine walk onto the stage. He had persuaded his wife to come to Paris, rather easily, in an effort to be able to see Christine in the opera. He had heard from one of his friends that he had seen Christine perform in Il Muto and that she was extraordinary. He sat next to his preening wife, whose stomach had now lost its size after delivering a baby girl. Christine walked out onto stage and Raoul's breath was taken away. She was more beautiful than he had remembered.

"No thought within her head but thoughts of joy,

No dreams within her heart but dreams of love." He heard Christine sing for the first time and his mouth fell agape.

"She really is quite good, isn't she?" His wife asked.

"Yes," He replied, a tear in his eye for letting her go. "I suppose she is."

Christine looked down to the basket of roses after seeing Raoul in the audience. She briefly looked up to see his wife, who was round in the face and pleasant on the eyes. She smiled, glad that he had married a fair woman and thought no more about it.


	23. The Point Of No Return

Erik walked onto stage, wearing his black mask and black cape. He looked over to Christine, picking at his roses and smiled, awaiting her reaction.

"Go wait for the trap he has set and wait for its prey." He sang to one of the chorus, he could not wait to see Christine, to touch her and to sing with her.

Christine was stunned into silence. She had expected Piangi's voice. However, instead she had heard a far more familiar voice, the voice of her Erik.

"You have come here.

In pursuit of your deepest urge.

In pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent, silent." She looked over to him and gasped at the sight of him. He had never looked so good, he teasingly placed his finger over his mouth and smiled crookedly at her.

Erik could not have been happier with Christine's reaction to his being Piangi's replacement. She looked excited and overjoyed, then her eyes began to fall closed, and her mouth fell open softly, sighing in pleasure.

"I have brought you,

That our passions may fuse and merge.

In your mind you've already succumbed to me.

Dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me." He remembered back to that night, when he had sung to her, she had been so close and he had enchanted her with song, enough for her to take his hand willingly.

Christine had never felt anything as strong as her longing for Erik in this moment. She smiled at him as he flipped his cape, letting it lie back over his shoulders.

"And now you are here with me.

No second thoughts.

You've decided, decided." He was right. She had made the decision to be with this man, she would do whatever it took to be with him, to succumb to him in more than just the mind.

Erik looked into Christine's eyes, fearing that if his gaze roamed over her body, he would not be able to contain himself. He saw a fire in her stare that he had never seen before, a lust that was unquestionable.

"Past the point of no return.

No backward glances.

Our games of make-belief are at an end." Erik smiled singing this line. Their relationship had been make-belief. He had never truly courted her. That was going to change. He was going to be the man she needed him to be.

Christine watched, in awe, as Erik walked towards her, at a painfully slow pace.

"Past all thought of if or when.

No use resisting.

Abandon thought and let the dream descend." She closed her eyes, thankful that this torture of solitude was almost at its end.

"What raging fire shall flood the soul?" She gasped as he quickly moved behind her and pressed himself against her, feeling his hand around neck and his voice close to her ear.

Erik felt intoxicated by Christine being so close to him.

"What rich desires unlock their door?" He sang to her, his right arm around her neck and his left hand on her waist. He was overcome by a mingling of lust and love as he caressed her bare shoulders and took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

"What sweet seduction lies before us?" A fire in her eyes flared and he had to fight every urge to pull her as close as possible and feel her against him, her lips pressed against his.

Christine took deep breathes as Erik sang into her ear and ran his bare hands over her flesh. She had never felt his bare hands before and that fact alone was enough to drive her wild with desire. She looked down at him as he held her hand and wanted him more than she had ever wanted a man before.

"Past the point of no return, the final threshold.

What warm unspoken secrets shall we learn?" Erik released her and Christine turned the other way for a moment. The combination of his bare hands on her flesh, his exposed chest and the passion in his voice had driven her almost off of the edge. She had to regain her composure in order to sing.

Raoul could not believe his eyes. This masked man. The elusive recluse that everyone had spoken about, was embracing Christine as if they were lovers. Raoul thought he might cry when he saw Christine's face when the man walked onto the stage. She looked as if she were in pure ecstasy. And when he touched her she looked like she was begging him for more. Raoul pouted, knowing that she had never looked at him that way before.

Erik waited to hear her voice, waited for her to sing those words.

"You have brought me, to that moment when words run dry,

To that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence." She looked over her bare shoulder to him. His mind and body raced at the sight of her looking at him with eyes filled with desire.

"In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent." She placed her hand in his and looked up at him and he thought he might chuckle at seeing such an innocent young thing voicing such scandalous thoughts. But, instead it set his soul on fire.

"Now I am here with you, no second thoughts.

I've decided, decided." He let his lips part in pleasure when he saw her nod her head in agreement. She had decided, she knew that he was the man for her.

Christine began walking away from Erik, towards the staircase. She smiled to herself, in disbelief that Erik would surprise her like this and in joy that he had.

"Past the point of no return, no going back now.

Our passion play has now at last begun." She looked back to Erik as she sung, knowing that this meant that he wanted her, not just for her voice, but for her body and soul.

"Past all thought of right or wrong, one final question:

How long should we two wait before we're one?" She leant from the stairs, looking over at Erik. Hoping that the answer to her question was as little time as possible.

Erik smiled seeing Christine lean from the bannister to sing to him. It was obvious that she wanted to be one with him as soon as she could, because she gripped the poles either side of her and pleaded and begged. His mouth fell open, she was a vixen, tempting and teasing him until he could take no more.

"When will the blood begin to race?

The sleeping blood burst into bloom?

When will the flames at last consume us?" Erik saw her at the other end of the walkway and it took all of his will power to not run across it, sweep her up into his arms and take her away.

Christine watched as Erik flipped off his cape, revealing his tall and powerful figure. Her mouth watered at the chest hair that was barely exposed and the tight fit of his trousers. Finally, she could sing with him, their voices would mingle for the first time.

"Past the point of no return, the final threshold.

The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn." Christine felt his hands grip her waist and she tried as hard as she could not to gasp. He then turned her, so she was pressing against his body and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her as close to him as possible. She blushed deeper than she had ever before. He pulled his hand across her breast and caressed her neck. She felt his face against her hair and began to breath heavily.

"We're past the point of no return." She managed to sing the final line.

This was where the song had ended in all of the rehearsals. But Erik leant down to kiss Christine's neck and sang into her ear:

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime.

Lead me, save me from my solitude." Christine felt her eyes begin to water, he had written her song into his opera. He stroked her face as he sang to her, then brushed her hair away from her neck to place his lips on the soft skin there. Christine held onto the hand that was placed on her neck and let her eyes fall closed in pure bliss, never wanting this moment to end.

"Say you'll want me with you here, beside you." Erik shocked her by releasing her and taking her left hand in both of his, singing into their entwined grasp.

"Anywhere you go let me go to." His voice had never sounded so haunting and powerful and he looked into her eyes with such love that Christine could not doubt anymore, he loved her, body and soul.

"Christine, that's all I ask of you." He serenaded her and as the orchestra played Christine's song, she placed both of her hands on either side of his face and brought his lips to hers.

It could not have been more perfect. He had pleaded to her in the most passionate and romantic way he could imagine and she had fulfilled the fantasy by placing both hands on the sides of his face and kissing him deeply. It was the first time Erik had kissed another and he could not think of a more perfect way to do it, with the orchestra playing and roses all around them. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, closer than she had been to him before. Their tongues danced in each other's mouths and neither one could imagine how a kiss could be more perfect.

As Erik noticed that the music was nearing its end, he lifted Christine into his arms as he had always wanted to from the day that he had seen her sprawled across that armchair, and carried her down the stairs. Without any thought, Erik walked off stage and through the sea of people that had congregated to watch the performance and carried Christine out into the night.

Raoul was both marveled and furious about the end of the performance. It was perfect. The way that Christine had kissed him and he had carried her off was faultless. But it was real, the emotion was genuine, everyone in the audience saw that. She loved this man, with a love that was more true than any love she had given him. He looked over to his wife, who was now crying and took her hand, promising himself to never think of Christine Daaé again.

André and Firmin were rather flustered and shocked about the whole thing. Erik had sang, he had performed. He and Christine had given the best performance they would ever see on that stage, they were sure of it. When they watched Erik carry Christine off, they stood to look where they were going.

"I don't think they'll be coming back tonight." Firmin whispered to André, who took a napkin out of his coat and blotted his forehead.

"Oh my." He replied unsure what to say.

"I daresay we shall never see anything like that again." Firmin said to his friend and he watched as André struggled with his words, obviously moved by their performance that he had produced a few tears. Firmin patted him in the back and they chuckled together, knowing that Don Juan Triumphant would be sold out by the next day.


	24. Candleglow

Christine nestled into Erik's neck as he carried her away from the opera house, he cradled her in his lap as the carriage began to move. She purred as he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. She couldn't have felt happier than she was in this moment.

Erik couldn't stop smiling as he held Christine in his arms. She was so warm and soft, the complete opposite to the way he viewed himself. He lead her out of the carriage when they arrived at his townhouse. She looked around in wonder, the furnishings were expensive and elegant, the ceilings were high and it was all furnished in the newest style.

"This is my home." Erik said to Christine, standing behind her.

"This is a beautiful house." She commented. She was sure that he had lived beneath the opera house, but she saw now that either he had moved, or he was only a visitor to the opera.

Christine was glad of her light attire in the heat of the main room, lit heavily with candles. To her surprise, Erik removed his mask and placed it on the top of the fireplace. He stood before her, in front of the roaring flames and stared deeply into her eyes.

"Christine, if I have not made my feelings known, let me tell you. I-I love you." He stuttered. This all seemed so much harder in words rather than song. He watched as her face was illuminated by the candlelight, as he had always wanted, and she smiled up at him.

Christine felt as Erik took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. His face looked angular yet charming in the candlelight and she thought herself so in love she may combust.

"I never wish to be parted from you, from this day, Christine. Please, you are the only one who can save me from my solitude. Be with me, in the way that men and women are. Spend your life with me and let me love you." He pleaded. Christine felt a single tear fall onto her cheek. She giggled as he knelt onto one knee.

"Christine, be my bride, my one love, my music and my light." She pulled on his hand, wanting him to stand once again and lifted herself to kiss him softly on the lips.

"I love you." She whispered against his lips and they embraced, there in the living room of Erik's Parisian home, knowing that their life together had only just begun.


	25. Blessings

Christine awoke, the next morning, alone in her bed. Although, this was not the bed she had slept on during her time in the opera house, this bed was soft and plush, and located in Erik's townhouse. She thought back to what had happened the night before, Erik loved her, she knew this now. He had enchanted her in song, then had professed his love in words. She had been taken aback at his mention of marriage and soon put the thought to rest in his mind.

"Erik, my love. Please, for a short while, think not of marriage, think of being with me, our two souls together for a while until we stand before God." She had not wanted to hurt his feelings, but they had known each other for such a short amount of time, that she thought entering an engagement could be very risky indeed. She loved him, that was for sure. But she wanted to savour this time she had with him before they would be man and wife.

Erik sat with Daroga in his living room.

"What do you think she means of it?" Erik asked him, wanting a second opinion.

"Erik, the girl is young. She wants flowers and courting, not talks of eternity and marriage." Erik thought to himself, was Daroga right? Was Christine just in need of a little enjoyment on his part to agree to be his wife?

"She loves you." Daroga soothed Erik, knowing that this anxiety would be at the forefront of his mind.

"Just have fun, Lord knows you deserve it more than anyone." He jested Erik and he nodded, understanding that Christine might be his angel, but she was in fact a mortal girl, and a little wooing might be needed to warm her up to the idea of marriage.

Christine sat at breakfast and began to miss the opera house, where the atmosphere was humming and there were always people around. Here, she was alone, save for two servants and she began to feel rather alone.

In this moment, Erik entered, carrying a bunch of cream roses. He thought perhaps that a lighter shade might not go amiss. Christine beamed at him, glad for his company and bound over to him, retrieving the flowers.

"These are so beautiful Erik!" She reassured him. He was relieved to find her quite as in love as she had been the night before. Part of him feared that without the gentle persuasion of music, she would quite lose her interest in him. But, here she stood, so close that he could move millimeters and touch her, smiling up at him, with adoration in her eyes.

"What would you say to going to the market today, with Meg and Daroga?" Christine's mouth fell agape as she heard Erik's unexpected and uncharacteristic question.

"Of course! If you would like it, my love. It feels an eternity since I have seen Meg and you would like to be with your friend." He saw such a childlike innocence as she looked up at him, joy and excitement filling her gaze. She may have been a mortal, but Christine Daaé was no normal girl.

Christine and Meg embraced when they saw each other. The day would be filled with looking at dresses and flowers for Meg's special day. Christine could not have been happier when she found out the news. Meg and Daroga appeared to be made to complete one another. He was darkness as she was light. But, they both had one thing in common: they loved each other more than anything in the world.

Erik and Daroga walked behind the chatting girls. Erik was stiff, nervous about being out in the town. Many people stopped and looked, not to cower at his mask, but to recognise who he was.

"Look, it is the opera writer everyone is talking about." One woman whispered to her companion and this made Erik's nerves subside ever so slightly.

"Are we not two of the luckiest men in the world?" Daroga interrupted Erik's thoughts. He looked upon Christine, in her lilac dress, curls cascading down her back and Meg, in her light green dress, sprightly and youthful.

"I daresay we are. You more so than I, in this present moment." Erik replied. He was not insinuating that Meg was more exquisite than Christine, as she would always be the pinnacle of beauty to Erik. But Meg had agreed to marry Daroga, he had her for his own, to show to the world in a bond that was respected. He sighed, wishing he could walk with Christine for a while, to feel her soft hand on his arm and see her wide eyes glancing up at him from time to time.

"Do not fret, Erik. I did not realise how in love with you she was. She will be yours in no time at all, provided you keep your temper." Daroga shot him a warning gaze and he thought he might have even seen Erik's mouth shift into a smile for a brief moment, before it disappeared.

As if Christine had heard Erik's wishes, she and Meg stopped, to allow the men to catch up and wrapped her arm around Erik's when he reached her side. Of course, people looked. They had heard about the performance, the heart wrenching, sensual Don Juan and to see the actors together, arm in arm, strolling through the market was too much for the ladies of Paris to bear. Christine was more alive this morning than Erik had ever seen her before. She was showing him different foods, pointing out flowers she liked. He kept those catalogued for later use. He bought her anything she wanted, although she complained and pouted about it. He would spoil her, as she deserved. He found this new side of Christine exciting and energetic, he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was so bright and talented and beautiful, that he could barely comprehend why she was on his arm.

Christine felt so proud to be on Erik's arm and as she and Meg discussed fabrics for her wedding dress and flowers for her ceremony, Christine saw how excited Daroga was, and more so, how miserable Erik was. She loved him, she truly did and seeing him in such anguish was not pleasing to her at all. She beckoned Erik down to her height and whispered in his ear:

"Which flowers would you like for our day, my love?" It was as if she had lit a candle under his skin, he glowed as he smiled down at her, more glad than ever before to be thinking about his wedding day with Christine. He led her around the flower stand until he spotted the darkest, blood red roses and pointed them out to her.

"I think these are for you, my love. You know how I have always loved to give you roses." Christine blushed, remembering the day that Erik had brought her roses and had seen her in her under clothes.

"Then that is what I shall have, my love." She cooed to him, willing to do anything to make him happy.

Daroga and Meg soon announced that they had to leave to go to tea with Madame Giry. Christine had hugged Meg and the men had shaken hands and the couples parted ways.

"How would you like to visit your Father?" Erik asked. Christine had never seen him this way before, so attentive to what she wanted and needed. She had not seen her Father in days and this loss was felt by Christine massively.

"I would like that very much." Erik smiled and led her to the house that her Father was staying in.

Gustav Daaé was loving the Parisian life more than anyone. He was dining with fine men, meeting their wives and writing music like it was pouring out of him. He wished he could see his daughter more, but he understood that she was the prima donna at the opera now and her days were incredibly busy. He had been there the night of Don Juan, he had never seen anything like it before and he was certain he would never write such a masterpiece. Monsieur Giry was a true genius, of this he was sure.

As he was thinking about his daughter, she and Monsieur Giry entered his home and declared that they were stopping for tea. Gustav was delighted, filled with questions that he couldn't wait to be answered.

"How long is it until you are performing again, my dear?" He asked Christine, aware that after the opening night of Don Juan, there was to be a hiatus before the opera commenced, to get the tickets sold and to allow the actors voices to relax.

"A month, Father. Then I shall be back on the stage." He noticed how Christine looked to Monsieur Giry and couldn't mistake her expression for anything but love. He needed to know, after the performance he had witnessed, he needed to know if Monsieur Giry would sing.

"And shall you reprise the role of Don Juan, Monsieur?" He watched as Erik's mouth curved in a devious smile.

"I shall, Monsieur, for the entirety of the season." Christine looked up to him in shock. She had not heard about this until now. Her heart fluttered as she thought of performing with Erik every night. She also felt a tight knotting sensation in her stomach when she thought about performing "Point of No Return" with Erik again.

Before she could react, Erik had turned his attentions to Gustav Daaé.

"Could I, Monsieur, perhaps have a few moments alone with you, in private?" Christine was sure that she knew what this was about. Her cheeks glowed red as her Father led Erik into his new study.

Gustav sat in his plush chair whilst Erik stood before him. He had never seen the man nervous, but he was sure that Erik was fighting a fierce storm of anxiety in this moment.

"Monsieur Daaé," He began. Gustav could not have him using such formalities, he was in love with his daughter for christ's sake!

"Please, call me Gustav." He noticed Erik's posture soften ever so slightly at this comment. He nodded and continued.

"Your daughter and I have known each other for a long while now, Gustav and I find myself quite in rapture of her. She surpasses anything I have thought to call beautiful and she is all things good and kind. Of course, I do not need to explain her good nature to you." Erik was clamming up now. Gustav felt a strange excitement in having power over this all powerful man.

"She loves you." He stated, wanting to ensure Erik that he had noticed that she had reciprocated his affections. His face broke into a glorious smile that Gustav had never seen on Erik.

"And I love her, most ardently." He said, almost breathless in his proclamation.

"I have no objections to your marrying my daughter, Monsieur Giry. You are a man of the highest calibre and I can see that she has already made her choice. I wish you all the happiness in the world, and I know you shall give it to her, wherever it is possible." Both men stood. Erik thought he might cry and Gustav was relieved that Christine had found herself such an amiable match. They shook hands and met eyes, understanding that they both shared love for Christine.

Christine looked up from her tea when the two men entered the room again. The sun was now setting and Christine was rather tired after the events of the past few days. Erik looked upon her in wonder, her lips pouted and her eyes softly drooping in a sleepy haze. She was alert enough to see her Father nod to her. She beamed, knowing that this meant, when the time came, Erik and Christine could be wed with the consent of her Father. Christine was so delighted that Erik had asked his blessing, feeling more assured of her want to marry him. Christine bid her Father goodnight and he had never seen her quite as content as in that moment. He then watched, as Christine and Erik left the house, arm in arm.


	26. Apologies

Erik looked over at Christine, across the long dinner table and watched as she nibbled at the food on her plate. He couldn't push the sight of her on that summer day at her home, bathed in sunlight. She was living in light, but not the untainted light of the country. This sun was powdered and rouged and he couldn't help longing to see her unadulterated again.

"How would you feel about returning to your home for two days?" Erik asked Christine. She was taken aback by the question, surprised that he was so willing to visit Domfront again.

"I would like that very much. I love my home and I have been away from it for months now." She knew that the leaves would be beginning to fall and that was her favourite time of the year at her home, in her gardens.

"Then it shall be done. We shall leave when you are ready." Erik stated firmly. Christine grinned up at him, wondering where this kind gentle man had appeared from.

Erik had noticed that Christine was exhausted after dinner. She had been so busy over the past week that he could not blame her. He watched, in wonder, as her eyes began to flutter closed. Erik laughed and wondered how she could be so devastatingly beautiful. As he approached her, he watched as Christine extended her arms, obvious that she wished him to carry her to her bed chambers. He was not sure if he would be able to leave once they were together in her quarters. But he had to remain strong and be the man she needed him to be.

Christine mewed into Erik's neck and he lifted her into his arms, her shoes falling to the floor with a thud. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled into the skin below his ear.

"May we leave soon? I long to be back at my childhood home." Christine whispered sleepily into his skin.

"If you feel more alert tomorrow, we shall travel then." She nodded into his flesh, hoping very much that she would be awake enough when the next day came.

Erik looked upon Christine as he laid her down in the bed. It took all of his strength to think of leaving her. However, when she pulled at his shirt and begged:

"Stay, please." He could not resist. However, he was still in his formal wear and she was very much still dressed.

"Change into your night clothes, my love and I shall do the same. Then I shall return." She nodded sleepily and he helped her onto her feet, to ensure that he would not have to undress her himself, as he was sure that would be too much for his inexperienced body to handle.

Christine quickly undressed, adorning a white nightgown. She let her hair down from the pins and laid them on her vanity, before sitting down upon her bed. She felt more alert now, as she heard Erik knock on the door.

"Christine?" He called to her and she invited him in. When he entered, Christine's eyes roamed over his body, which was covered by a thin pair of cotton trousers, and a night coat. His face still wore the mask and she was sure that she would rid him of at least that before he climbed into bed with her.

Erik was shocked to find Christine so awake after leaving her in such a daze. She stood from the bed and his eyes tried as desperately as they could not to roam her body in the thin nightgown. She approached him. He expected her to go directly for the mask. However, her arms stroked his biceps and she looked up at him with pleading eyes that he could have never denied anything.

"Let me see you." She begged, her head falling to his chest.

"Christine, you do not know what you are asking." She looked up to his solemn face, anxious about revealing himself to her.

"You shall be far too hot in my bed with this house coat on." She stated and he knew she was right. He sighed, letting her untie the belt and push the fabric over his shoulders. He gasped as she placed her head on his chest, hearing his heart.

"I love you." She whispered, giggling when she felt his heart rate pick up pace, beating incredibly fast.

"I love you, Christine." He replied and his heart continued to thud on. He felt her hand brush in his as she led him to the bed. She beckoned him with wanton eyes and he was unsure if he would be able to resist her, were she to pursue him.

Christine knew that nothing scandalous would happen in that bed that night, as she was waiting for marriage. But, she wanted to feel Erik's skin against hers and she longed to feel his arms hold her all night, as she slept. He was nervous and his body was rigged as he sat on the edge of her bed. She knelt behind him and placed both of her hands on the plain of his back. He was broad and muscular, the muscles quivering under Christine's touch, that made a strange wanton feeling bubble within her. She kissed his shoulders and leaned to kiss the lobe of his ear.

"You have never held another." It was less of a remark and more of a statement. Christine knew that Erik had not laid with other women, had not felt the flesh of another against his. He did not reply and Christine knew exactly what to do.

"Touch me, trust me.

Savour each sensation." She sang to him as her hands reached over his shoulder to remove his mask, placing it on the table beside them. Erik turned, shocked to hear his words leave Christine's mouth.

"I have never held another." He repeated, confirming her suspicions. She looked into his dark, brooding eyes and knew that he was frightened of being so vulnerable.

"I have never been held." Christine whispered and she saw Erik's face crack, both in disbelief and pity. Christine placed the palm of her hand onto his face and turned him to her.

"Hold me?" She pleaded and that was all it took. He turned, carefully and lifted the covers for her. Christine laid down, with her legs bent ever so slightly and waited to feel Erik's body lie beside hers.

Erik was terrified. Scared that his large frame would crush Christine, scared that she would feel his touch and be repulsed. He lied down in the bed, as far away from Christine as possible. Hoping that she would not notice. However, he felt her hand brush his stomach and he gasped at the skin on skin contact.

"Closer, Erik. I want to feel you." Christine pleaded. Erik was positive that Christine did not know what she was asking to feel. He could feel his desire bubbling within him as he lay in the same bed as Christine. However, in the end, she got the better of him and he moved closer to her, mimicking her position and brushing her hair out of the way, before placing a soft tender kiss to her neck. Having Christine so close was intoxicating and he felt his whole body pulse as it laid behind hers. He dearly hoped that she would not move and cause any friction on his skin that would set his desire aflame. But she did, wriggling her body into his, sending jolts of pleasure through his spine and causing him to gasp. Christine, however, had given no sign to suggest that she had noticed and he soon got back to placing small butterfly kisses to her neck as she cooed to him.

Christine awoke to find that she was alone in her bed. She sighed, remembering how safe she had felt in Erik's arms. She had not known he was so muscular, but his hands were soft and although she could feel his desire press against her during the night, he had been nothing but a gentleman.

She wondered why he had left her before she awoke and shook her head softly when conjuring the answer: he was ashamed. He was scared that she would awake next to him and cry out in horror and run from the bed. Christine herself knew that this was not even near the range of possibility, but she sighed, wondering what kind of past Erik had endured to be so insecure.

Erik had asked the maids to pack a bag for each of them, to travel to Domfront. He felt ashamed for leaving Christine alone in bed. He knew that she would probably much prefer to have woken beside him, but he was not quite ready for such a thing to happen. He had slipped out of the room at sunrise, taking a moment to look down at Christine in awe and adoration, before venturing back to his room and preparing for the day.

Christine was both elated and troubled when Erik had told her that they would travel to Domfront today. She longed for home, to smell the freshly baked bread and see the leaves in varying shades of umber, falling from the trees. But, something about Erik's mood that day bothered her. He was cold and focused as he packed the few bags into the carriage. She longed for a smile, or even a glance in her direction, but alas, no such gesture was made. She huffed as she entered the carriage and sat opposite him, closing her eyes, determined to sleep the entire way to Domfront, or at least pretend to.

Erik looked at Christine's angelic face, rested in sleep. He wanted so much to wipe the glistening of drool that had strayed from her mouth off of her chin, but no, he would not. He was ashamed of his behaviour the night before. He had thrust himself upon poor Christine, forcing her to embrace him against her will. He was sure of this as no one had ever willingly engaged him in an embrace before and he was almost sure that she could not be the first. She was so perfect and who could blame him for wanting to feel her soft alabaster skin against his and her smooth womanly frame pressing against him, dwarfed by his much larger frame? He could, in the cold hard light of the day, he saw himself for what he was: a lecherous man who had forced himself upon his young sweetheart. He could only be thankful for the fact that his body and mind had not betrayed him and that he had not taken things further and ruined everything he had built with Christine. He was unsure if he situation could be renewed from this point but he was sure that with the quiet moments he had with himself in the carriage, now that Christine was asleep. That he could think over his actions and build a stronger resolve to leave Christine's flesh in a virginal state until their wedding night, if there was ever to be such a one.

Christine;s eyes fluttered open as she felt the carriage holt to a stop and she gasped as she looked out of the window and saw her little Domfront cottage sat there, in its perfect fairytale-esque state. She had forgotten how beautiful her home was as she gazed in wonder at the small cozy sitting room, filled with plush chairs and sunlight streaming through the large window. Erik was slow and far behind her as she rejoiced in being home. His moss had not appeared to improve at all. In face he seemed more at war with himself than ever. He was brooding and cool as he dropped the bags in the hallway and sunk down into the large armchair in the living room. He stroked a hand across his face and sighed in frustration.

Erik could take it no longer, she was sending him questioning look after quizzical stare and he could stand her silent interrogation not a moment longer.

"Christine, my dear." He began. It was the first words he had said to her since they had left that morning and her head snapped up, looking at him expectantly.

"I must apologise for last night. If you can look upon me no longer then I understand." Christine sat, utterly baffled, not possibly understanding what Erik was saying.

"What on earth do you mean, Erik?" She asked, a tone of absolute astonishment lacing in her voice.

"Do not be so naive, Christine, I forced myself into your bed. I gave you no option but to let me hold you!" Christine fought the urge to laugh. She knew how self conscious Erik was and she knew laughter on her part would only work to wound him further. She rose from her seat and approached Erik, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. She sat herself into his lap and his mouth fell fully agape. She then cupped his face in her hands, allowing him to keep his mask on this time and leant forward, placing a long soft kiss to his cheek.

Erik's eyes fell closed in pleasure at Christine's kiss. He had never expected this to be her reaction. He thought that she might accept his apology and move on from it quickly, or perhaps ask if they could slow their relationship down, but this reaction was not in his realm of understanding or expectation. She placed a tender kiss to his closed eyelid and he let a ragged breath leave him, allowing his arms to snake around Christine's waist.

"I want you, Erik, all of you." She whispered into his ear, a ghost of a plea was in her voice, but more than anything, it was reassurance for Erik. However, he couldn't help questioning her.

"Why?" He asked in a ragged breath and Christine allowed herself to chuckle now.

"Because you are handsome, and I love you." She stated with such conviction, as if she was more sure of this fact than anything, believing it to her very core. Erik could not help the overwhelming rush of love and disbelief that washed over him.

Christine began to panic as she saw Erik's smile begin to wobble and falter. The tears came fast and heavy, she gasped, seeing him weep at her words. She carefully removed his mask and brought his head down to rest on her bosom. He gripped to her tightly and allowed himself to cry. Christine wasn't sure how she could have elicited this reaction in Erik, but it worried her to her core.

"No one has ever used that word to describe me." He breathed as the weeps became shallow and scattered. Christine sighed, knowing that Erik was shocked more than saddened by her words. She lifted his tear stained face to be in line with hers and looked deeply into his eyes.

"Do you really think that I would be here if I did not want to be? I had suitors thrusting themselves at me left right and centre after Il Muto and did I take any of them up on their offers? No, because it is you that I want, you who sets my very being on fire." A small smile crept to the sides of Erik's mouth. His eyes shot to her stomach when he heard it grumble.

"The cook is not here, so I will whip us up something." Christine cooed to Erik, before jumping from his lap.

He watched her as she left, he had no idea that she could cook, another attribute that made him love her even more. His breath still faltered as he placed his mask back on and slicked down his hair. She had been so shocked by his apology that he thought himself rather ridiculous now. Christine did not take long, bringing plates filled with cold meats, cheeses and fruits. He smiled down at her, as she looked up at him apologetically.

"I am sorry, it was all I could find." She said sheepishly. He interrupted her by placing a soft, gentle kiss to her lips. She looked up at him both shocked and pleased by his gesture.

They ate almost in silence, apart from a brief conversation about Meg and Daroga, where Christine had told Erik that she would be the maid of honour and Erik replied that he had been asked to be the best man.

The sun had set and both Christine and Erik were fatigued after their journey to Domfront. Christine longed to feel Erik's arms around her once again, but she feared that the wound was too fresh, that he might think she was just pitying him. So, she wished him goodnight, and after a soft peck to his cheek, retired to her room.

Erik wondered if he should have asked if she had wanted to stay with him, but he knew that Christine was an independent woman and if she wanted to stay with him, she would make that decision on her own. He laid in the guest bed, cold and alone. He wondered if Christine felt as solemn as he did with being alone. His question was answered when he heard the small pitter patter of her feet, creeping across the floor and then felt the bed sink where she had sat and eventually laid beside him. He turned to look upon her and sighed, seeing her cloud of brunette curls form a halo around her and her eyes softly closed, as a picture of tranquility. She rolled, pressing her body against Erik, with her arm flung across his naked middle. He sucked in a sharp intake of breath before her stroking fingers calmed him.

"Christ-" He began, wanting to ask her if she really wanted to be with him.

"This is not a time for talk, my love. Sleep and think tomorrow." Her half asleep voice instructed him and he could not resist following her instruction, stroking a hand through her hair and pulling her closer, thinking himself the most joyous and peaceful man in all of France.


	27. Return to Paris

Christine awoke for the first time, cradled in Erik's arms. She smiled to herself, wriggling back into his embrace, glad that he had not ran away. She felt more comfortable and safe in Erik's arms than anywhere else in the world. His strong arms tightened around her as she moved her body closer to his, in a subconscious act of possession.

Erik awoke with a start, realising that Christine was not in slumber, held in his arms, that she was lightly humming to herself. He knew now that there was no chance for escape and that he would have to deal with her realisation when she learnt that she had laid with a monster.  
"Christine." He whispered into her hair. He gasped as she turned to face him, curls falling into her face. She placed both hands on his bare chest and leant up to place a kiss onto his cheek. His breath hitched as he felt her soft lips peck the scarred skin of his right cheek.  
"Good morning, my love. I'm so glad you decided to stay with me this morning." He knew just as well as she that choice played no part in his being there.

They laid for a long while, Erik as stiff as a board and Christine peppering him in kisses in an attempt to loosen him up. She did so in vain. They rose together and Erik left Christine to change.  
"Walk with me in the garden today, my love." Christine ordered softly.  
"Yes, of course." He replied, interested in the auburn colours of autumn that shone in the trees this time of year.

Erik slowed his pace, slowing to a leisurely stroll. He treasured this moment, walking with Christine in the garden. The golden light of the mid morning sun made her glow.  
"Are you excited for Meg and Daroga's wedding?" Christine asked in a light chiming voice.  
"Yes and no." Erik replied in a final tone. Christine did not ask him to elaborate, and he was both glad and upset by this. Meg and Daroga's wedding was only a few weeks away and Erik was anxious being around so many people in such a formal setting. Performing to them was no problem, but standing amongst them was entirely different.

After their stroll in the garden, Erik retired to Gustav's music room and Christine laid up with a book in her armchair in the living room. Erik began playing a new piece from an opera he was working on, a production about pirates and high status ladies. He began the solo he had prepared only days before and Christine could not help listening in.  
"Come to me, leave this life of chains  
If you wish for ecstasy, call for my name." Christine had never heard this before, but she felt a strange yearing upon hearing his words.  
"If you seek joys of the flesh  
Then, my dear I request,  
One night and one alone  
There I will keep you warm." She was shocked. His words differed so from how he acted in real life. He recoiled from her touch and feared the "joys of the flesh" as he put it. Christine nibbled on the corner of her book, wondering what was to be done about the coiling sensation that was beginning to build in her core, stirring her up and begging for more.

Erik sat alone at the piano and cried out in shock when he saw Christine stood in the doorway.  
"Christine, how long have you been stood there?" He asked, his hand on his chest, breathing heavily from shock.  
"I want to go back, back to Paris and I want you to show me the place that you lived, beneath the opera house." Christine pleaded. She wanted to see the part of him that he had locked away from her, the part that he refused to show her.  
"That is impossible." He muttered, turning back to the piano.  
"No, it is not impossible! You are merely deciding to say no!" Christine whined, padding towards him. She ran a hand over his shoulder and down his chest.  
"Please, show me that part of you. That dark lusting part of you Erik." He began to crumble beneath her hands and words.  
"Christine." He breathed.  
"I will show you Erik, I have that side too, that side that yearns for you." She whispered into his ear.  
"Please, Christine, don't say such things, I fear I will not be able to control myself." He whispered, his voice shaky and ragged.  
"That is the thing, Erik. I don't want you to control yourself, I want you to show me your true real animalistic self." She begged and placed a long, passionate kiss to his lips. This was all it took for Erik's self resolve to dissipate.  
"Very well, Christine. I will show you my darker side, the side now one else has seen before. Just promise you will not run, that you will not abandon me in fear." He pleaded against her skin.  
"Never, my love. No matter what you show me, I will never abandon you." And for the first time in his life, Erik believed that he would not be left alone.


	28. The Marriage

Christine and Erik made their way back to Paris, bidding farewell to the autumn leaves of Domfront. Christine would miss the place. But both she and her Father had outgrown it, had become used to the hustle and bustle of Parisian life and had grown to enjoy it and even crave for it.

Once they were back at their home in Paris, Erik was unwilling to fulfil his promise to Christine. He feared that she would run, despite the fact that she had explicitly said she would not.  
"After the wedding, my love. Take me after Meg and Daroga's wedding." She ordered softly.  
"Very well." He agreed, knowing he would have to tidy up the place slightly.

Meg stared at herself in the looking glass. She was a lowborn lady, a ballerina for the opera, nobody. But here she was, in a fine gown, with a fine ring placed on her finger, about to marry a brilliant man, one that she loved dearly. She thought herself the luckiest woman in the world. Although Daroga was a few years senior her age, she loved him and felt attracted to him nonetheless.  
"You look breathtaking." Christine said, coming up behind Meg in the mirror.  
"Not as much as you! I knew I shouldn't have chosen pastel blue, it is definitely your colour!" She joked, thrusting Christine before the mirror. Both Meg and Daroga had only one person at the altar with them. Christine felt her breath leave her as she saw Erik, dressed in top and tails, stood looming beside Daroga. The groom himself looked incredibly nervous, rubbing his hands together and fidgeting. Christine thought this was a positive sign, a sign that Daroga really did want to marry Meg.

Erik looked out at the lacking crowd of people. The guests included Meg's Mother: Mrs Giry, Christine's Father, and a few of Meg's friends from the opera. Erik was glad for this small audience, as it was less people to see him in public. He had to admit, that such a public ceremony was not something that Erik enjoyed the thought of for himself and Christine. He knew that far more people would attend the wedding of the strange unknown opera ghost and his soprano bride. Erik shook his head, dreading the day, then feeling guilty, knowing that being married to Christine was all that he had ever wanted. He saw her, as she carried Meg's dress in. Meg looked lovely, light and airy, like some kind of fae and Erik smiled softly at seeing her, knowing that she would make Daroga happy and give him many children. But when he saw Christine, all thoughts of the bride and groom were lost. She looked exactly as she had the first day that he had met her.

Christine saw Erik, the look of adoration on his face and blushed a deep shade of scarlet. However, she could not see herself in the bright lights of the Parisian church, in a fine dress. This was Meg's dream and it fit her well, but for Christine, it was far too fine.

They said their vows and promised to themselves and to God that they would love and cherish one another for all of time. Christine and Erik left together and the departure of Meg and Daroga for Europe was a teary one on the women's part.

Erik knew now, as he looked down at Christine, that he would have to fulfill his promise. He had disappeared whilst Christine ran errands with Meg, to get the lair into an appropriate fashion. He was still nervous, fearing that she would disapprove of his dark and gloomy home. But he had promised to show her nonetheless.

Christine had prepared herself mentally for the journey to Erik's home and she had worn a shorter gown, one that brushed her ankles, so that she might not muddy the hem. Erik led her to her dressing room and she became very confused. However, when she saw him open the mirror, leading to a secret pathway, her eyes widened. She wondered, as he took her hand, how many times he had watched her, how many times he had seen her undress. She thought she might have been offended by the idea, but instead it rather excited her.

Erik did not look back at Christine, fearing her expression. However, when they got to the boat he was shocked to see upon her face a look of pure bemusement. He helped her down into the small vessel and began to propel them through the lake. Christine could not believe the sheer volume of candles that Erik possessed in his home and what puzzled her still was how gloomy the place still looked, despite the illumination. It was a strange underworld, one that Christine felt she knew.

Erik lead her from the boat, torch in hand and welcomed Christine to his home. It was not what she had expected, there were different rooms and staircases, it was a fine home indeed. It was so hollow, so spacious, she was sure her voice would travel unlike she had heard before. Erik felt a strange power come over him, a confidence that came from being in his own home. Christine was his angel, but she was his now and he was sure to enjoy her in any means possible.

Christine wanted to sing, wanted to hear her voice in this place. So, when she spotted the piano, she approached it to give Erik a hint as to her desire.  
"I see my songbird wishes to sing." He drooled, approaching to piano, his stride slow and seductive.  
"No, no music." She stopped him, his eyebrow raising in shock. She approached him, her steps long and slow. Erik felt his authority leave him, Christine drawing away his power through the intensity of her gaze.  
"Past the point of no return,  
No going back now,  
Our passion play has now at last begun." Her voice echoed through the large empty house and Erik felt his body quiver at the sound of her. He knew what had to be done, he knew what was right. Before he could question himself, he took Christine's hand and led her to her room, the room where he kept her things.  
"Christine?" He whispered, unsure how else to communicate his feelings. Christine understood when she saw the fine lace gown, what Erik was asking.

Erik waited outside whilst she changed and his breath left him when he saw her, in her veil and gown. He daren't approach her out of fear that she might not be real. It was Christine who acted first.  
"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime.  
Let me lead you from your solitude." She approached him, placing her hand on his forearm. Erik produced the fine ring, with the oval diamond and slid it onto her finger. He saw a tear fall onto Christine's cheek, a tear of joy. She knew God and she knew that God would view this marriage as real as any. It was their love, their vows, without any onlookers or bystanders.  
"Anywhere you go let me go to,  
Christine, that's all I ask of you." Erik belted, letting his emotion take over. Christine removed his mask and he allowed her, knowing that he would never have to wear it around her again. He kissed her, much like he had the opening night of Don Juan, and scooped her up into his arms. There was no church, no ceremony, only love and that was exactly as Erik and Christine wanted it.

Gustav, Meg and Daroga were all very shocked to see Chrisine wearing her wedding ring.  
"Please do not be angry, we had to do it our own way." Christine pleaded. They understood, of course they did. Erik and Christine were not ordinary souls, they were rare creatures whom could understand one another exclusively. Gustav found great success writing an opera with the aid of Erik and Meg soon fell pregnant with her first child. Despite becoming round with a child, Christine and Erik continued to perform Don Juan until its closing night. After which, Christine retired. However, she never stopped singing. Even as they were surrounded by their children, Erik and Christine managed to hold onto that fire, that passion that they could only truly find through music.

Author's Note: I can not apologise enough for letting this story slip through my fingers. I want to thank everyone who has read this fic and want to apologise again for the break that I took earlier in the year.


End file.
